The Milking Farm: Introduction (Reboot)
Yep, it's finally here. The reboot of the old classic, the Milking Farm. It's still a prison, like before, and the characters are different. However, the concept of milking and the Quota and quite a few other things have been maintained, and they will be making a return with this series. Please look forward to other entries (with much longer chapters) in the future, here and on Patreon.
The Milking Farm: Introduction
Logan was almost glad to be on his way to prison after that mess of a trial. Hell, if it weren't for the fact that he barely knew where he was going, there wouldn't even be an almost. Relating all of his 'jobs' to the court as part of his plea bargain had been less like the cam shows the bear used to give, and more like telling his grandmother that he'd fucked her dog. Twice. In both holes. Compared to the stony stares of the jury and the judge vomiting at one point, the occasional glare of the policeman in the seat in front of him were heaven.
Still, Logan was bored. The scenery hadn't changed for the last hour, and the bear was utterly sick of looking at trees. They didn't allow him a book, hadn't given him any sort of games, and they sure as hell weren't going to give him a cell phone. There wasn't even anyone to talk to besides the guard, and he'd resisted that for the last three hours after being shoved into his seat. Still, desperate times...
"So, uh, what's this place like?"
The boar guard snorted, shaking his head.
"Why do you wanna know?"
"You mean besides being bored out of my skull?"
"Don't worry about it, cupcake. You're gonna get all the dick that you can handle, though they're not gonna be paying for it, hehehe."
Rolling his eyes at the 'joke', the bear gave up and looked out the window again. The trees were just as dull as before, leaving him to drum his fingers against the glass as the bus continued down the road. The only thing to break up the constant drone of the engine were the occasional snorts of the guard and the radio. Country music, of course; it was always country.
As the latest hit 'Twang-a-lang' came on for the fourth time that hour, Logan reached up and folded his ears down over the side of his head, gritting his teeth at the horrible noise. He even kicked the seat in front of him in sheer frustration...right into the guard's back. The boar leaped up, and Logan threw his arms in the air as the boar raised his weapon.
"Sorry!"
"You just sit tight, boy. You don't want to get me riled up. This place's got plenty of medical stuff, so they can fix you right up if I just...lose control."
"Hey, you can't just -"
"I can do whatever the fuck I want. Specially with criminal degenerates like you. Messing around with all those people and stealing from 'em, when you're not corruptin' 'em."
"I never corrupted anyone! That was all what they paid me to do."
"Hmmph. Yeah, right."
The bear growled a bit, but he kept it quiet. The gun eventually came down and the boar sat down again, and just like that, his boredom was back.
This is fucking bullshit, he thought as he turned back to the window. A month selling my ass, and a few little nightstands pilfered doesn't deserve eight years in prison!
Logan knew that his lawyer considered him lucky, that he could have been sentenced to a much longer stay, and in a real jail, but it sure as hell didn't feel fair. Yeah, prostitution was illegal, but what the hell was he supposed to do when it was nearly impossible to get a job? It wasn't like he could live on nothing.
Not that he got any sympathy for that. The judge - after he'd finished throwing up - had turned to him with a condemning gaze. He could still remember the old goat's words.
"If it were up to me, I'd lock you up and throw away the key. But since I can't do that...and since the prosecutor has an alternative...Part of your deal will be serving time at the Milking Farm. Eight years time, and maybe you'll be a better man for it."
He'd never even heard of this 'Milking Farm', but his lawyer had pushed him to take the deal. No time to look it up, no time to check it out. Just sign the paper and get on the bus. He still thought it was a stupid idea, but there was no going back now. Hell, he didn't even know where he was going.
Ass end of nowhere, considering how far we've gone, he thought with a grumble. Though...
The bear noticed that the trees were slowly thinning, pulling away from the road. Turning around, he looked forward, and his eyes went wide.
"You've gotta be shitting me..."
He got to his feet, walking down the middle of the bus to get a better look. Standing taller than the trees was a single square building, soaring over three hundred feet in height, and easily as wide and long as a football stadium. The bus passed by several smaller watchtowers by the side of the road on its approach, but the bear couldn't take his eyes off of the big white building.
"What...the fuck...is that?"
"That's your home for the next eight years, scumbag."
"That...That's the Milking Farm?"
"Yep."
Logan could hardly believe his eyes. The place looked like something out of a cartoon, and a sci-fi one at that. A big block in the middle of nowhere, so big that it looked like a miniature skyscraper? What the hell was going on? How had no-one noticed this?
He stood in the middle of the bus, staring dumbly at it as the vehicle drove up to the front door. The bear just couldn't understand it, and he continued to just shake his head until the boar shoved him forward.
"Move. You're wasting our time."
"I -"
"I said, move!"
Shoved off the bus and nearly falling on his face, Logan turned on his heel, only to see it driving away. But he wasn't alone for long. Seconds later, he heard someone chuckle behind him, and he whipped around. He gulped at the sight of the massive, suit-wearing wolf towering over him, and the two doberman guards at his sides. He cleared his throat, his voice shakier than he'd like as he looked up at the wolf's face.
"Who are you?"
"Little respect, boy. I'm the Warden here. Warden Sanders. But you can call me Alpha, because that's what I am to you."
"Uh huh." Logan shook his head. "Alright, what do I -"
One of the guards threw a package at him, and the surprisingly heavy bag smacked into his stomach hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. Groaning as he slowly pulled himself upright, the bear reached into the bag as the Warden chuckled.
"You'll find your prison uniform in there. Get changed, and we'll start your welcome tour."
Logan felt just one thing in the bag, and it couldn't have been a uniform. He held it open and looked inside, and for the first time in weeks, his cheeks burned.
"You gotta be kidding me..."
End of Introduction