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Warning: MalexMale, Homosexuality, Yaoi, Toys -Original Fiction and Characters- How much is too much? Can there be too much pleasure? Or empty pleasure?
I have always been called a colt; a sign of youth. My fellow colts and I graze in the fields. Sometimes we play games or roll around in the grass. Our laughter skims the wind and carries far and wide.
Then there is the tall and rough one. A man, who wears tattered jeans and a tight white shirt. He comes to check on all of the colts a few times a day, mainly for meals. He'll bring us nice food and watch us play. He always looks focused while he is watching us. And on a good day, you can even catch a small smile at the corners of his mouth. He is our master.
Sometimes he'll take a colt or two away... And they are not seen again. We aren't sure where they go when he takes them... Some think they are killed. Other's think they become enlightened. I didn't really care... It wasn't me in trouble so it didn't matter.
I'd never think twice about the master...
The sun feels good upon the soft skin of the colts... The breeze keeps us cool and happy. The others and I are in the midst of a game... one colt is it and he must catch the others. It's all quite good fun...
The master approaches our fields and opens the gate. He then slowly approaches us. I am it at the moment, frolicking about the lush green grass to catch my fellow colts. The master catches me gently by the arm. I reel about out of surprise and look up at the tall master. I feel my eyes widen.
He does not say a word... He just takes me by the hand. Then he leads me from the field. It is all so sudden. Soon the field is a distance behind me. Instead a tall barn is coming into my view. It has been recently painted. The light hitting it makes it shine a bright red. I stare up, mystified. The master tugs me gently into the barn.
The inside of the barn is filled with many stalls. The stalls are made of white wood with iron hinges and locks. Older colts... no longer colts I suppose... are in the stalls. To my surprise, nearly all of them start moaning and whining as soon as the master steps inside with me. They lean upon their gates, leaning over the edge, reaching out for the master.
The ones near him he pats on the heads as he passes... but does nothing more nor say a word. Soon we come upon an empty stall, which he unlocks and leads me into. It is filled with soft bedding, a bowl of water, and a tray for food. It is quite cozy... I inhale deeply.
The master comes up behind me and rests his hands on my shoulders.
"... Beztei... you're no longer a colt today," the master says into my ear. I am no longer a colt, he says. Then what am I? An adult...? He pushes down upon my shoulders gently.
Out of obedience, I kneel down on all fours---my hands and knees. I feel eyes watching me. Glancing up, I see from the stalls next to me others of my species nearly glaring down at me. I stare up at them out of confusion. Why are they glaring?
The master picks up a wide metal bucket. He then places it under me... I look underneath to see the bucket, then I look over my shoulder at the master. He sits behind me on his knees. His hands rest upon my bottom. Slowly he grips each of my cheeks in his hands and pries them apart.
My cheeks flush when the master leans his head in toward my behind. They flame further when his warm tongue begins to lick at my opening. The soft, warm undulations of his tongue against my tightness causes me to shiver.
His tongue is quite gentle, despite his rough appearance... The tip of his tongue begins to push against my rosy flesh... It gradually pushes into me... Why is he touching his tongue to that place...? Isn't it dirty...?
I shiver again... This strange teasingly delightful feeling begins to swim over me. The master's tongue pushes deeper inside. How long is his tongue anyway?
It's warm, wet and wiggling inside me. I gasp as his lips calmly cup my opening... Then gentle sucking ensues... His lips act as a seal as he suckles my tightness. It feels so strange, yet... delicious.
My eyes droop into hazy slits and I shiver again. His hands begin to stroke along my bottom... then my inner thighs. I have never known my body to be so sensitive to little touches like this... Perhaps my master is just very... talented.
To my surprise... the little dangling part between my legs begins to stiffen. It is usually limp. The stiffening is foreign to me... That teasing sensation intensifies as it hardens. The master seems to notice my hardening. Soon his fingers have wrapped about the hardness between my legs. His caress to my arousal feels wonderful... to put it simply.
I bite my lip... clench my eyes... and tremble under my master's caress, his tongue, his breath, his fingertips... Then... I let out my first moan... it's long and low... soft really. Then another comes. And another... The sensations are too much to just sit by and be quiet.
Then it comes. The great intensity. Pleasure, it is called. It crashes upon me. And as I arch my back, throwing my head up to the sky to cry out... A strange, white substance gushes from the hardness between my legs. My master continues to gently stroke the length. He guides the foreign substance into the bucket beneath me... Once no more comes, he releases me. He picks up the bucket and I collapse upon the soft hay.
My muscles twitch a little. I open my eyes to look up at him. I feel quite relaxed... content... sleepy... He smiles down at me. Opening the door to my stall, he leaves.
They were glaring at me... for they envy that I got to feel the pleasure that the master can give. I sigh softly. Sleep feels good right now.
So this is the life of a colt after adulthood... The barn... the master... the bucket... and the pleasure. Our master, ever day, walks into the barn... and chooses five of us to be, as the master puts it, milked. The barn usually erupts in a loud din of moans and groans. Each of us wishes to be stroked and touched by our master's tongue.
As each of us becomes more experienced and used to the milking, he expects us to have more stamina and give more milk per sitting. A few times, the master has licked me for over two hours, since I just continued to gush my milk... Those times were wonderful.
Sometimes at night, I'll wake up from my sleep with my length hardened...for I have dreamed of being milked by the master. And on the lucky occasion, he'll check the barn in the middle of the night... and relieve me of my hardness.
One morning I awake and stretch. The morning sunlight barely illuminates the interior of the barn... But the master comes, at his usual time. The typical cries follow... And to my luck, the master chooses me as the first to be milked. He smiles at me over the door of my stall... and walks in.
He carries his usual bucket... but a new device is in his other hand. I look at it with curiosity. It is long, cylindrical... And is shaped similarly to that part between my legs. The master places the bucket on the ground. I quickly sit up, and get on my hands and knees. I turn my head to look at the master over my shoulder.
Kneeling behind me, he gently strokes my bottom with one hand.
"I have a new device, Beztei... And you're who I shall test it out on first," the master explains. He puts the tip against my opening and pushes in the artificial length gently.
I close my eyes. A shiver racks my body as the new device is pushed all the way in. And when it is... the master pushes a button on a controller in his hand. I gasp with wide eyes... as the device within me begins to vibrate. The buzzing within me spreads to my loins. I harden within a few seconds. My eyes shut and I whimper. Once introduced to this pleasure, I always crave. Is it wrong of me to feel so selfish...?
The master watches me for a while. Soon he grasps the end of the device and pulls it out slowly. As he pushes it back in, I gasp once more. A special spot within me... it lights up with an astounding bit of pleasure each time the vibrator brushes against it. The master seems to know this as well as I.
My master increases the speed of his wrist thrusts as he pushes the vibrating creation in and out. Within a few moments, my milk erupts from my length and sails into the metal bucket below me. I inhale sharply... But the master does not stop dragging the device in and out of me... He continues.
And to my surprise, after a few thrusts, I am desperately hard once more. I moan softly. I whimper and grip at the hay beneath my hands. As the device is pulled in and out, I loosen more under the sweet feel of the vibrations.
Once the bucket is about half full, my master pulls the device from within me and I fall to the side, panting. The master gently pets my head and picks up the bucket. Onto the next one...
Once the master has his new vibrating device, he never uses his tongue on us anymore... except on the colts who have just bloomed into adulthood... Perhaps he feels it is easier on them to use his tongue before using the buzzing invention...
Time goes by like this... living in pleasure. The master grows older and I grow older. We all grow older... My master's wrist begins to ache. But those who drink our milk demand more...
He comes in... in the evening this time, wheeling in a dolly, which carries a strange mechanical device. It looks rather intimidating. I swallow hard as he wheels it to my stall and opens the door. He sets it up as I watch on, a mix of curiosity and unease mixing in my stomach.
A flat metal table, low to the ground. Strange flat rings of metal on all four corners. A large rectangle of metal is attached to the back with a strange panel filled with buttons. That is the contraption. The master smiles to me and helps me onto the table. It's rather cold. I shiver and whine a little.
He opens up two of the rings, and puts my wrists into them and closes them. He does the same to the other two rings, clasping them around my ankles. I swallow again and feel a nervous shudder come over me. I am on my hands and knees with my bottom spread. I look over my shoulder. The master carries over another new device.
It is a long canister... with level markings along its glassy surface. Attached to it is a long tube. He kneels down beside me and takes my length. He touches the end of the tube to my length and I am immediately sucked inside it. My eyes widen immensely and I cry out. The suction is so intense. I shudder, shiver and tremble. The master smiles at me. My length hardens in an instant.
He stands up and walks behind the rectangular pillar. I hear his fingers typing upon the buttons.
To my surprise, a little door in the rectangular pillar opens up, and a mechanical arm extends outwards. It resembles a squirt gun. The arm pushes the tip of the gun device into me... and I feel a warm substance squirt inside me. I groan. The mechanical arm then pushes the tip of the gun in and out of me... spreading the strange goo inside me. It's made me slippery...
Then, a loud hum fills my ears. Another mechanical arm approaches my bottom. At the end of the arm is a spinning, vibrating device, similar to the master's. The arm puts the tip to my slippery opening and thrusts the device inside me.
I cry out louder. This mechanical creature is now performing the task of my master... It moves slowly at first. I whimper loudly.
"... Not fast enough hm?" the master asks from behind the button panel. I hear more button pushing... The arm thrusts in and out of me at a speed that the master can never achieve... one much faster than what it has started with.
"Much better," he smiles... warmly. Between the vibrator and the suction from the tube... I release my milk in a few seconds. The tube sucks up my milk into the canister... filling up a very small portion. The master watches this whole endeavor. He ruffles my hair... and... leaves...
The undulations of these mechanical devices... they torture and pleasure my body for two hours. When the master returns, I have filled the canister almost completely. He looks quite satisfied with my milking and finally releases me from the clutches of the mechanical things. I collapse upon the hay, panting, whimpering. I feel.. sore as well. I can't move...
I am left like that for a few days... and when I finally start to recover, the master comes again with his new milking machine. It seems this is the beat of my life now... Milked for hours, then left to rest, barely recover and milked again... Over and over...
Empty pleasure... this machine is a novelty at first... but I grow weary of it's thrusts, sore from the vibrations and empty from the passionless pleasure it brings me. But it gives the master the milk which he sells. So I have a duty to fulfill... and this chore that used to be fun must be done.
I stare up at the ceiling of the barn... my eyes are glazed and emotionless. How long have I been here? I don't know. I don't even know when I was brought here... or if I was born here. But I suppose it isn't that bad here... if you don't mind being milked of life...
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