Date: Thu, 2 Mar 2006 13:45:32 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: The Milking Pens

			     THE MILKING PENS
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     The barns were arranged in long lines of silver aluminum. There was
none of the usual smells one associates with a barnyard, but then, there
were no cows in the field, no sheep in the meadows, no horses in the
corrals, no dogs in the yard. That was the enigma of this planet, Marnicia,
that it had been colonized many years ago, and had endured during the long
Interregnum between the fall of the Old Empire and the rise of the New
Galactic Union. These colonists had landed on a barren world with only a
small supply of seeds. They had been lacking in several of the essential
elements to make a successful colony (they hadn't been colonists by choice,
their ship had made a forced landing during the evacuation of Telvecia
during the wars), they should have dwindled and died out.
     Instead, they had a thriving culture. Somehow they had fought the
battle for survival and won. Only...how?
     The ship's eco-biologist had spelled it out. "They must have found a
local source of proteins. The human body can absorb proteins from some
unlikely sources, you don't have to be a meat-eater, though that's the
easiest source for an omnivore such as ourselves. But there are nuts,
legumes, some grasses, that manufacture proteins. I would have guessed that
they had turned to cannibalism, but that wouldn't introduce new proteins
into their eco-system, just recycled the ones that they already had. They
might have survived, a few, after a fashion, like that, but this colony is
not only larger than the source population, it is expanding over the main
continental mass.
     We had made aerial scans. No animals we could see. No plants that were
cultivated beyond those brought by the original colonists. They had landed
on a world with an oxygen-rich atmosphere and no life above the size of
microbes and algae. All the life on Marnicia was of human origin.
     It was a mystery. And given the possibility of cannibalism, we had to
find out quietly, before we announced our presence.
     The first thing I noticed was a rather casual dress code, many of the
local inhabitants went naked and seemed to be of a servant or slave
class. My few efforts to talk to these servants and find out their exact
condition went for nothing, they would stare at me, dumb, and I wondered if
they were mutes. I wasn't in a position to examine them close enough for
that, another issue for the main landing party when we brought them down. I
had an uncomfortable few weeks being a casual listener while I learned
their dialect, Telvecian English which had further corrupted by their
isolation. I lived as one of them, kept my conversation to a minimum,
soaked in their culture (they had the most astonishing range of vegetarian
dishes, usually served with a frothy mixture that was salty but flavorful;
I quite enjoyed a glass of it with every meal after the local custom. After
I solved Marnicia's main enigma, I intended to track down the source of
this drink, called Nurita, and get the recipe so I could feed it into our
ship's database.
     After I got a grasp on the language, I left the city and headed toward
the smaller towns. I needed to get friendly with a farmer.
     Mikmal was my mentor as I walked toward the barns. I had overheard
that he had one of the "largest herds in the county" and was looking for
help on his ranch. Whatever the secret was of this planet's survival,
Mikmal had the answer in his barns.
     "Your job will be to milk them according to the schedule posted."
Mikmal informed me. "Most of them produce at least a liter's worth three
times a day. I have a couple who are about to get below that; when that
happens, it's time to render them down into glue and fertilizer."
     "How old are they when that happens?" I asked him. I couldn't admit I
didn't know what animal they had somehow managed to bring with them despite
the records, but the age might help me.
     "Most of them manage well enough until they are about thirty years
old." he informed me. "After that, the production drops and you get
decreased intervals as well as decrease in product volume. Comes to below
three times a day, they don't bring in enough to earn their feed and keep
and it's time to render them down. A damned shame, they're affectionate
things, and one can get attached to them if you aren't careful. Did you
keep a herd back where you came from?"
     "Oh, only a couple for family use." I said. "Not the big production
line you have going here."
     His chest puffed out. "Best source around. I have contracts with three
of the biggest Nurita producers, they send their trucks around every day to
collect. You won't have any hand in that part of it, though I'll show it to
you if you work out."
     "What will I be doing, exactly?" I asked him. "Do you have machines to
milk it out of them?"
     "Machines? Pah!" Mikmal said that like a word, not a grunt of disdain,
though its meaning hadn't changed. "You have to give the herd the personal
touch to get proper production, any farmer knows that. You sure you grew up
on a farm?"
     "Yes, sir." I said hastily. "But with a big place like this, I figured
you might do it different."
     "No machine can replace the personal touch." Mikmal informed me
pompously. "The affection of the animal to the man milking him is what
keeps productivity high. Simple-minded brutes, they stare at you with those
long, pretty eyes of theirs and pucker their lips like they want to kiss
you. Go ahead if you want to, it helps them produce."
     "Yes, sir." I said and walked inside the barn, looked at the beasts
inhabiting the stalls, gasped despite myself.
     The stalls were filled with men, young men ranging in age from late
teens on up to prime of life. They looked at us entering and made the first
sounds I had heard from the unclothed segment of the population. Eager
grunts and they thrust their erect cocks at Mikmal and myself with a lusty
urgency unmistakable.
     "Well, you can see it's time and then some for their milking." Mikmal
said. "You take that side, I'll take this one and I'll see how you do."
     With that, Mikmal walked over and pulled from a receptacle in the wall
a sort of funnel, which he held in one hand as he walked up to the eager
young man in the first stall. The youth capered as Mikmal got closer, and
Mikmal smiled and embraced the young, nude form, and gave his body a couple
of simple strokes. The youth shivered with pleasure at the touch, and
Mikmal then grasped the hard young prick and began to pump on it. The young
stud stood there, his hips thrust outwards, shivering, eyes closed in
rapture.
     "Well, get to it!" Mikmal ordered and I looked up from what he was
doing to Mikmal's face. He wasn't mad, but he was giving me an order.
     "Uh...yes, sir." I said. "Just wanted to see you with the first one,
be sure I was doing it your way."
     "What way is right?" Mikmal said. "You grab their pud, you give it a
couple of good jerks, and if you're halfway decent about getting it right,
they'll come every time. If they don't, it's the fertilizer pits for them!"
     I looked at the young man Mikmal was jacking off to see how he took
this threat, but the words hadn't fazed the youth. He was shuddering and it
was apparent he was already close to climax. Mikmal put the funnel to the
young man's cock and the youth grunted, moaning, as he came with a
wrenching sound that went on and on. Far longer than any climax I'd ever
had.
     Mikmal was watching a gauge with satisfaction. "Half liter. Three
quarters. Liter. Liter and a quarter. Oops, that's all of it. Good boy." he
said as he slid the funnel back down into its receptacle, and then patted
the young man on his unkempt shock of blond hair. "Damned good producer,
but hell, he's been bred from a fine line of producing studs."
     Mikmal looked at me, transfixed by what I saw, this one man in a clean
set of clothes, a row of naked, grunting, horny studs, all staring at him
like he was their sole source of salvation.
     "Well?" Mikmal said.
     "Uh? Oh!" I said and moved, suddenly bashful, to the first man on my
side. I had to stay long enough to get Mikmal in a real conversation. And
to speak privately to one of these men who apparently lived his life in a
small stall, and spent his days being whacked off by this farmer.
     So many men living like this! No wonder Mikmal needed help.
     The first man was a bit older than the youth Mikmal had jerked, but I
got the funnel in my left hand and moved over to the nude, muscular man. He
seemed a bit shy of me.
     "Hello." I said to him. "My name is Ettan-64."
     My words sound soothed this man, if not the sense, for he didn't
answer me, just walked over and nudge my free hand with his erect cock.
     "You ready for your morning treatment?" I asked him.
     "Guhhh!" was his only answer.
     I got hold of his cock, and his reaction was immediate, he moaned from
the first touch, and when I didn't start stroking him right away, he began
to hunch at my hand, sliding his shaft back and forth.
     "You are eager, aren't you?" I asked him. "Well, let's get this over
with and when I'm done, I want to talk with you, all right?"
     His only answer was to grunt and hunch at me harder, this time it
wasn't so much self-stimulation as his telling me, "Shut up and pump my
rod, damn you!"
     I jerked his pud and he grunted with a surprisingly loud growl. His
climax caught me off-guard, his spray hit me on my arm instead of the
funnel. The amount of this shot was incredible, it wasn't like having a guy
jizz on me, it was more like someone had thrown a cupful of hot liquid onto
me.
     "Catch that, Ettan!" came Mikmal's shout.
     I got two more loads on me before I managed to fumble the funnel to
where this stud's jism could land inside of it. I looked a moment before I
could find the gauge, and forgot to pump the guy's prick while looking and
he groaned with frustration and rage.
     "Keep working it!" Mikmal ordered. "Forget the gauge, it'll be there
when you're done!
     I shamefacedly returned my attention to the cock and aiming that hot,
white flood into the funnel. "Sorry." I said.
     "That reading will be messed up anyhow." Mikmal griped. "You lost
nearly half of it by not being ready. I thought you were raised on a farm
and knew how to milk out a stud's load of cream."
     "We didn't do it like this." I said. "But I'll do better next time."
     "You'd better, and hurry." Mikmal said. He was on his fourth one
already, three exhausted men behind him, lying on the cold floor. He was
right, if I was going to pump half the cocks in this room, I was going to
have to hurry."
     My first man finished, and I shook the last drops of his come-load
into the funnel, slid it back into its holder, and looked at the
gauge. "Nearly a half liter." I said to Mikmal.
     Mikmal shook his head. "Even with you screwing up, that's low." he
said to me. "That one's getting old. Have to turn him in one day soon."
     Turn him into what? I shuddered and moved to the next man in
line. This time I was better prepared, I let this naked man hug me and even
gave him a one-handed hug back, and ran my hand down his chest before
grasping his prick. I pounded him with rapid fury and held the funnel ready
and caught that entire huge load when he squirted it, gasping and grunting,
feeding it all into the funnel.
     I looked at the gauge when I was done. "A liter and a half." I
said. "No danger of the glue factory for you, that's for sure."
     "Come on, Ettan, move it." Mikmal said. "Two more barns after this
one, and we have to come back for this group again before we break for
lunch."
     I did what I could. My attempts to speak with these slaves (I couldn't
call them anything else, given their condition, despite my knowledge of the
myriad ways humans got along...or didn't...with each other throughout
history. Mikmal owned these men, all of them. And he made his living by
selling their admittedly enormous come-loads to be turned into a protein
drink!
     "That must be it." I said to the guy I was jacking when I thought of
that. "The Nurita is a daily drink because it's this people's source of
protein. They survived by feeding off of this mutation which increases
manyfold a man's sperm production. What do you think of that?"
     His only answer was to grunt in a now-familiar sound and I hastily
moved the funnel up to catch the load.
     Mikmal had to take my last half-dozen men and he wasn't that satisfied
when I was done. "Okay, come on, Barn Number Two was ready nearly a half
hour ago. This time is coming out of your lunch! Mine, too!"
     "I'm sorry, sir." I said as I trotted after him. "I just wasn't
expecting this."
     "What's to not expect?" Mikmal said scornfully. "What did you think we
did with them. Works the same for the Cows as it does for us humans, after
all."
     "Cows?" I asked him, unsure if I understood him.
     "Now come on, we have another hundred and twenty-five Cows to milk
out, and then back to the seventy-five in Barn Number One before you and I
get lunch. I keep my Cows on a strict schedule, and they love it. Their
pricks bob up and get nice and hard just from it being the time for me to
pump their puds and catch their milk."
     Milk? I didn't dare ask him about that alteration of the word. "What
about...female Cows?" I asked him.
     He looked at me with a scorn I was beginning to tire of. "I don't have
time to have a bunch of females around, with their brood of pre-producing
offspring yelping around them. Only thing female Cows are good for is
breeding. Most breeders I know will get rid of most of their female crop,
so they can breed the mother again quicker."
     I gulped hard at that and kept my mouth shut. After Mikmal finished
his half of the second barn, he looked at me with eight to go and said,
"Come on over to Barn Number Three when you're done with your row." and
walked out.
     I was alone with the slaves. I turned to them urgently. "All right,
I'd better talk fast. I'm not from this world, I'm from another planet and
we've come to rescue all of you. But I will need all of your help to do
it. Be ready to break loose with me when I give the signal, and spread the
word to the others if you can, okay?"
     Silence, except for grunts from the men I hadn't milked out yet. The
ones who had been milked were ignoring me entirely. I tried again, with
increasing urgent and simple words, and it finally sank in.
     These men didn't answer me because they couldn't! The same mutation
that had rendered them such enormous producers of jism had also rendered
them unable to speak. I also had some serious doubts about their intellect
as well.
     So I did the only thing I could, I went over and took care of the
other eight men. My arm was aching by then as you can imagine, but I didn't
plan to stay on this job any longer than I had to. I already had the
primary answer to my question, how had this colony survived without any
animals? The answer was, they used some of their own number, turned them
into the animals that they needed. I wondered if they were cannibals after
all. But I hadn't seen any signs of meat dishes while in the city, only the
Nurita that was everywhere. By some miracle, I assumed, the people of
Marnicia avoided the ultimate degradation of humanity, that of the
consumption of human flesh to survive.
     But their other practices weren't any better! My God, baby girls were
killed so their mothers could bear more children, preferably male? Men were
kept in these stalls, only to shoot their astounding huge loads into
funnels at the behest of the men like Mikmal, like myself, producing hot
come in huge quantities for us to drink at every meal. And when they
couldn't keep up the horniness of their younger years of maturity?
Fertilizer! These people may not be cannibals, but they were definitely
guilty of slavery and genocide.
     I resolved to talk to Mikmal at the end of the day, but by then, my
own understanding had shifted.
     First, I had seen too much to think that these "Cows" were intelligent
as humans despite their physical similarities. Mankind traveled down many
roads when left on other worlds, and this wasn't the first instance of man
being animal once again...although it was the first case of a world turning
some of its men into animals to serve the ones who had kept their
intelligence!
     Second, I was worried about one of the Cows under my care, the first
one I had dealt with that now-eternally far-off morning. His seond load, he
produced just under a liter. The third time, he was down to two-thirds of
that.
     Mikmal checked the gauge while waiting for me to finish. "This one is
ready for the knackers." was his judgment. "When they run out, they run
out."
     That night, I went out to the barn again, my talk with Mikmal over. I
had learned too much to sleep well, anyhow. The lives of these Cows was
barren of any dignity or hope. They lived their lives in these stalls, a
narrow box. At one end was a hole they could squat over to void their
wastes, the other end had a trough that carted down loads of food to them
twice a day, grain wastes such as corn husks and bean stalks, mostly,
edible but not proper human food. They would gulp it down, the only food
they had ever known. Once a day, Mikmal would come in with the hose and
spray them with water as a means of bathing them and washing out their
stalls at the same time. If they ever left their stalls (they could,
nothing barred their way), they were beaten back into them again. A Cow
that was anything but docile was killed out-of-hand. And even when they did
everything their owners wanted of them, at about the age of thirty, when
only the first diminishment of sexual capacity was involved, they were
discarded as being useless. Not worth their care and feeding. Scraps and a
stall, and they didn't produce enough to be worth even that to their
owners.
     Everyone knows that a researcher shouldn't get personally involved
with his subjects, but let's all face the fact it happens all the time.
     I was determined to save this one man, this one "Cow," from his fate
at the hand of a cruel blow to the head.
     So I went out to the barn with only one goal left, to free this one
being under sentence of death and get back to the ship. The scientists
would need a specimen to study.
     The man looked up as I entered and when I approached him, he got to
his feet gamely, his erection as potent as ever. There wasn't the exuberant
eagerness of the other times, though, he had shot his three loads and he
was wiped out. But ready to give me another load if I wanted it, if he
could.
     "How's it going?" I asked him.
     "Gunh?" he said, his erection aiming itself at me.
     "I wish I knew your name." I said. "A man ought to have a name,
right?"
     "Gunh?"
     "I'll call you Gunn." I said. "That way, you can say your name all you
want to."
     "Gunh!" He slapped my hand with his cock.
     "Gunn, you and I are getting out of here." I said to him.
     "Gunh!" he said agreeably, but when I tried to get him out of the
stall, he stopped. The training they had before they were brought to a
place like this must be thorough.
     "No, come on, it's okay." I said to him, trying to take his hand. He
swiftly substituted his dick for his hand as I did, and I ended up with
some precome on my palm.
     "All right, then." I sighed as I wrapped my hand around his
prick. "You want to come, I'll let you come one final time, but then we
have some traveling to do."
     I began to jerk his cock, but as I have said, he just wasn't up to it
as he had been before, and my arms were dead-tired.
     "I can't do it any longer." I said after a time. "I don't see how
Mikmal does it all day long, every day. My arms are aching!"
     "Gunh, gunh!" Gunn said to me, his cock throbbing in my hand, and he
began to hunch at me again, like he had that morning.
     "If you think you can do it, I have an idea." I said and I bent down
to kiss his cock.
     At first, he jerked back from me, and I smiled up at him. "It's okay,
Gunn. Come on, Gunn. Let Ettan suck your dick like a nice little Cow,
okay?"
     Gunn didn't understand me, but obedience was drummed into him, he
obeyed and this time he held still while I took his cock into my mouth.
     He grunted in surprise when I bobbed back and forth, working his
prick, and then he got into it and began to hunch at me in time with my own
movements. His cock throbbed with the hauntingly familiar sensations of a
true-human's prick, and then he groaned and I knew he was about to
come. But I figured, he couldn't have that much juice in him, could he?
He'd been down to a pint earlier that day.
     But a pint of liquid is a hell of a lot to take on in the space of
less than a half minute. He started shooting his wads, and I gamely drank
it down as he shot, and in no time I couldn't swallow it fast enough and it
filled my mouth, overflowed my chin and I had to let go and the last wads
spun out of his prod and onto my chest.
     "What the hell are you doing?" demanded Mikmal from the doorway.
     I couldn't pretend innocence, so I turned and said, "I was giving this
guy a second chance. I figured, if he and I got more comfortable with each
other, he could increase his production."
     "Too late for that." Mikmal said. "I've done arranged for the knacker
to come get him and two others."
     In raw desperation, I said, "Can I keep this one for myself?" I should
have tried for all three, but I knew Mikmal enough by now to know that even
one was a stretch.
     True enough, Mikmal sneered. "Getting too attached to the livestock,
are you?" he said. "You want a man to suck, you should have come to me."
     "Can't we call off the knackers this one time?" I begged him. "Just
one more night?" By morning, I could be gone, retrieved by my ship, gone
from this world.
     "Ahh!" Mikmal said in sheer disgust. "You aren't any more use to me
than he is. You want this one so bad, you can have him in exchange for the
wage I owe you. I'm being generous." he explained in case I missed it. "But
you aren't the first one to fall in love with one of the herd. My dad found
out and killed the Cow I had gotten sweet on. And he was right to do
that. Men should stick to men, not animals."
     "Thank you." I said, trying to drag Gunn out of his stall. But he
wouldn't move. "Come on, Gunn, you belong to me, now!"
     "God, you are stupid!" Mikmal grunted. "You don't even know how to
move a Cow?"
     "No." I admitted. "I lied about having cows when I was young."
     "I figured that out this morning." Mikmal said. "Would have ignored it
if you'd been a better hand. As it is, take this Cow and get lost."
     He showed me the way, I had to put a blindfold over Gunn's eyes, and
he calmed down then, my hands his only contact, he obeyed them easily. I
got Gunn out of the barn and once we were clear of the farm and I could do
it safely without being observed, I signaled for the retrieval ship.
     As it hovered overhead, I said to the blindfolded Gunn, "I sure hope
you're housebroken, because I'm not letting them keep you in a cage any
longer."
     The scientists ran some tests of Gunn, but I got to keep him the rest
of the time, and the only cost was a notation in my file by the ship
captain, accusing me of unprofessional conduct. Gunn adapted in a
reasonably short time to life on the ship, I guess the close hallways and
small rooms weren't that different from a stall. As for me, I did most of
my work from my desk, with Gunn beside me, lying on the floor, head resting
against or on top of my foot much like a loyal dog. At night, he would even
snuggle up in bed with me once he learned I wouldn't punish him for doing
that.
     When I'm relaxing, Gunn stays close to me, he seems to be forming more
and more a bond with me. He'll lay his head on my lap and I'll stroke his
head like he was a pet, and he looks up at me, his dim-lit blue eyes gazing
at me unendingly, without comprehension but with complete trust. His
lovemaking is crude and abrupt, but he is learning to do things to please
me, slowly and with errors, but learning how to make love to a man.
     But questions plague me at times. Am I guilty of bestiality here? Is
Gunn a human any longer? I know that Cows are not able to breed with
mankind, their genes aren't completely compatible, births occur but are
rare and the progeny deformed and usually dies before or shortly after
birth.
     I guess you can call Gunn a member of homo bovinus or some such (my
Latin is sketchy at best!) His people have gone down a divergent
evolutionary path than homo sapiens, and while it saved the human race on
his world, Gunn's people have paid, and continue to pay, a price horrible
beyond all imagining for that victory. We will recommend that food animals
be brought to Marnicia, but that will take centuries to show results, even
if the Galactic Council authorizes the enormous cost, and meanwhile, an
offshoot of humanity is treated like a common beast.
     But are they? Is Gunn a human being or an animal? Am I his lover or
his master? I look at him and I don't know, I only know that he loves me
and I love him. Most of the time, that's enough.

				  THE END
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