FSE

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The satnav was becoming galling.

"Continue straight ahead for three miles."

Easier said than done. I had followed it religiously and it had led me into danger, the bitch. Or bastard. Hard to tell, they always had a pretty androgynous voice to my ear.

Then the road took a sudden turn for the worse, which I didn't think possible. Mud, potholes, danger danger danger...

"Continue straight ahead..."

"Fuck off!"

I had managed to end up in a ditch, and as I got out to investigate the damage, it turned out to be a ditch full of mud. I promptly went up to my ankle and fell over, right into the goo.

I knew nothing much about cars, but I could tell the wheel wasn't supposed to look like that. It seemed as though I was in a bit of a bind.

I checked my phone and found zero bars. Zero. It took me a second to register this stunning fact, I think it was the first time in my life I had seen it outside of a basement carpark. I held it up, sideways, even sat on the hood of my rental but no dice. I was fucked.

I knew these trips into redneck land were a bit of a rite of passage for new hires, and I took it with what grace I could manage, but I was beginning to lose my cool. I was a city fox after all, this was not my area of speciality. There wasn't even a latte within a hundred miles for all I knew.

Looking around, I realised a little late what I was up against. No phone signal, nobody in sight not even a building. Trees, fields, dirt. Mostly dirt, and half of it seemed to be all over my suit.

The sound grew from an annoying buzzing. At first I didn't know what it was, but by the time I had a clue I got to see it as well, as a figure riding a trail bike came over the ridge behind me.

He was a bulky figure, no helmet, and as he came closer I saw he had a rifle slung over his back. He was riding an old Honda, wearing jeans and a polo. And he was a bull.

Coming to a stop he killed the engine and kicked out the stand, then dismounted. I could see him better now, young but I wasn't sure how young, smiling kindly with big brown eyes. His horns were part grown, heading out then up slightly ending in sharp points, and he had a little tuft of fuzz growing at his chin and a functional stainless steel nosering. He gave me a friendly wave.

"Got a problem there mister?"

****

It was kind of exhilarating, if you were into that sort of thing. I wasn't, so it was terrifying, powering along shit awful dirt roads on the back of a bike holding onto a young bull for dear life. He had done a cursory examination of my car, enough to confirm what I thought which was that it was fucked, and offered to take me back to their farmhouse to call for help. I checked my phone again, and found it wanting, so I guessed I had no alternative.

The one thing that made the journey bearable was the bull. Arms wrapped round his torso I got a feel for his body, and it was something else. His muscles bulged, and I found myself squeezing harder than I had to. He gunned the bike along trails barely visible and I nestled into his back. I could feel his heartbeat, surprisingly slow given the terror I felt on this ride. I relaxed, figuring if he was taking it easy, so should I.

His rifle made snuggling a little challenging. I had asked him why he had it with him, and he just shrugged.

"Had word there might be some predators around mister, so I came to check it out. Never can be too careful with our stock, something can make a meal out of a cow before you know it and get away free. Round here we look out for things like that, its normal."

I shrugged and thanked a perverse God that my saviour had come looking for predators and found a lost fox instead. I had no idea how I was going to get out of the shit I was in without him.

We came to a driveway finally, but to my surprise we didn't head for the main house. Instead we headed to a barn, about a hundred yards from the house. He parked under a low awning beside a door, and I realised there was some sort of dwelling here attached to the barn. Windows, a door, and I could see an inviting looking bed through the partially open curtains.

He seemed a little embarrassed, but still polite enough to explain. Always polite.

"You see mister, pa has guests sometimes at the main house. Farmstays and the likes. So he gave me the little house here for myself. It used to be for the farmhands and such, but now I got my own little home. It's cosy but comfortable. And you can come in here without tracking mud through the good carpets. Pa really would freak at that."

I nodded in sudden appreciation for his common sense and followed him in. He hung his rifle from the wall, and looked me over.

"Gee mister, you did get nice and dirty there. Your clothes are a bit beyond help I fear, but we can get you clean."

In his no nonsense way he helped me undress. I was blushing a similar colour to my fur under my coat. Russet. In a moment I was naked, shivering, and not from cold as it was easy ninety degrees outside though a bit cooler in the little home beside the barn.

"There is a shower outside mister fox. Got warm water an all, though its outside. You might find it helps get the mud off."

He was grinning now, that same simple friendly grin, and he gestured out to the porch. I followed his directions, and found a shower head hanging from the awning and a simple set of taps. With a shrug I turned it on, finding the water chilly but not freezing, and the experience of showering out in the open like this almost too erotic. The breeze flicked my tail, and then other places. I felt my sheath swelling, and the tip of my cock began to welcome the day, glistening in the country air.

"I left some of my old clothes on the bed inside mister. And brought you a towel."

I had to gasp, and cover my groin, which just made the bull smile more. He noticed, but pretended not to, and handed me the towel as I turned off the tap. It wasn't just his presence that made me gasp though.

He had undressed, and I got to see all of him. Previously he had been wearing work boots, faded and battered, a pair of 501's, a polo top, and a bandana around his neck. Now he was wearing none of the above. I drank in his full naked form, in all its manifold glory.

He was broad in the shoulders and hips this one. A big barrel chest, thick arms with well defined biceps, flat slabs of muscle for pecs, and the beginnings of a six pack. Maybe a four pack for now. His coat was brown with little white spots, one just under his left nipple, one on his belly accentuating a treasure trail of coarser fur that ran from a thicket between his pecs down his belly to his navel and then below.

He had an enormous set of testicles. I knew bulls were hung like that, but this one was insane. A huge low hanging pair, elongated like all bovines, the left slightly lower than the right, and hanging over them a thick flaccid cock with a pronounced foreskin. I swallowed and hid behind the towel. My groin gave a shudder, and my cock poked half way.

"If you don't mind mister, I need a good wash too. Been dusty hot work today, and I need to cool off and I know I smell not so good, apologies."

Mumbling thanks I bolted for the room, and found some tattered faded clothes on the bed. A pair of boxers, a rugby top, and some shorts. All way too big, but at the moment beggars could not be choosers. I pulled them on.

While I waited, I found my briefcase and opened it. My lips pursed, not finding everything I expected to. My phone was missing.

Hearing hoofsteps in the doorway, I turned to see my bull friend there. He was drying his headfur, an unkempt thicket of blonde hair with two braided lengths. He was otherwise naked, still, and showed no modesty at all, nor any intent to cover up. I stared, and stammered.

"Uhhh...uhhh...whats your name again..."

His smile lit up the room.

"Rory. Call me Rory."

"Rory, you don't remember seeing my phone do you?"

He looked puzzled now, the expression almost painful on his placid face. He shook his head, and beads of water flung from his horns as he did. His ears fell, as did his tail.

"No mister, cant rightly say I did. Maybe you left it in the car?"

"Maybe..."

"You some sort of business person are ya?"

He pointed at my briefcase. I had to give a snort at that. Sort of maybe.

"Kind of Rory. I did accounting and business in college. Now I have a job that's sort of in business. Say, you don't know the Mitchells do you Rory?"

He nodded his head, eyes wide.

"Uh uh. Bout three farms over. You doing some business with them mister?"

"Yes Rory. Don't worry. Might need your help finding them today though, I was heading there when my sat nav sent me down that road."

The chuckle was positively youthful, and he seemed to mind that most amusing.

"Awww we are always rescuing city types who go down there. Follow the voice in their car without the least common sense. Useless types...pardon, not meaning anything..."

I held up a paw. "Don't worry. I might agree with you."

"Yeah, well that's another thing. Don't think you will be going there today mister. Its getting late, and folks need to do their chores and get food on. And your car aint going nowhere today. Think you might be staying."

I looked peeved, I knew. My eyebrows furrowed, and I balled my paw into a fist. The guys at work were going to have a field day with this clusterfuck.

Seemingly a little worried he had hurt me, he crossed to a small bar fridge and pulled out two beers. He threw one at me and opened the other. I looked at it a bit suspiciously, but felt what the fuck. If there was a time and place I could enjoy a beer this was one of them.

It went down surprisingly easily, and I ignored the burning feeling in my belly and the buzz in my head and asked for another. He kicked the fridge door with one hoof, sitting on a chair beside it, and it opened. He reached in and tossed me another and took one for himself. I toasted his skill, and he gave me a wink.

The trouble was, alcohol had certain effects on me. I was in a room, buzzed, with a naked young...well, who knew, bull near by. And he was smoking hot.

"How old are you Rory?"

"Eighteen, give or take. Finished school, working here for pa."

I looked at him anew, and whistled low under my breath. Eighteen. Fuck what would he look like at twenty five. Be still my aching heart.

"You ok mister?'

It took me a moment to realise I had been staring. It also took me a moment to realise I had been fondling my cock through the shorts. His shorts. The breeze coming through the window played on my ears and whiskers, and added to sensations building in other parts of my body. Needs. Really serious needs.

I had always had a thing for big straight guys in college. Fuck I had a thing for big straight guys in school. Stallions, bulls, bears, wolves. Big, beefy, curious.

I looked over the posters in the little home. Naked girls draped over cars and farm machinery. He seemed as straight as a die.

"You like my posters?"

"Yeah..."

"Pa doesn't like them in the house either. Says its not good for the customers. Also doesn't like me naked like this, but I like it. The breeze plays with my nips and my cock something awesome, and I feel kind of warm. I can tell you like it too don't you mister."

I spat out the beer I was about to swallow and looked at him. The smile was there, and a glint suddenly in those brown eyes. And the eyes were staring at my groin.

Oh fuck I was hard, my boner pointing at the ceiling. It tented his loose shorts badly, unrestrained by a pair of old boxers about five sizes too big. And at the tip, right where it poked at the fabric, a bead of moisture darkened the cloth.

"Yeah, I know you like what you see mister."

Sitting on his bed, stock still, I waited for the apocalypse. I fully expected him to reach for his rifle, or worse. Instead he reached for another beer, took a long swig, and gave me a wink.

"It's ok mister...I like to play around too. With someone nice...like you."

I let out the breath I didn't realise I had been holding only to let out a yelp soon after. With one big awkward paw he gripped his cock, now semi hard, and began to jack off right in front of me. I watched his hard-on grow, and grow and grow. The foreskin retracted nicely, revealing a big purple head glistening with pre, and the sound of squelching reached my ears about the time he drained his beer.

"Holy fuck..."

"Now mister, no blaspheming. Pa would have you over his knee for a belting if he heard that."

Now I was imagining this stud bent over some daddy bull's lap with his ass bared for a whipping. My erection became almost painful, and I shifted awkwardly on the bed.

He shrugged at me and poked a tongue out. The gesture made him seem so young, a youth belied by the size of the erection he was handling and the muscles all over his body. He worked up a good head of steam, head back a little, eyes half lidded, snorting occasionally making his nosering jiggle.

Then he stopped, and took a bead of pre from the fat head of his cock and brought it to his muzzle. The tongue lapped greedily and he let out a soft moo. I almost creamed my pants...well, his pants.

"You can come over here if you want mister. I'm not shy."

Yeah, you think?

Like a puppet on a string I obeyed my cock and the coaxing adolescent voice of the bull calf. Knelt before him, I felt his legs. Rough fur, thick muscle, thighs the size of small trees. He spread them wide, wide enough for me to have full access to everything I wanted, and he lay back in his armchair and put his hands behind his head and winked.

"Show me what you got mister city business fox."

What I had was a muzzle, and paws, and a long history pleasuring studs. Even studs as young though rarely as well built as this one. Rory sighed as I grasped his erection, letting my paws caress his flesh, but not moving, letting me take the lead. I like him even more for that. He was a gentlecalf.

Leaning forward I brought my muzzle to just an inch away from his swollen head and huffed warm breath all over it. He sat upright and almost gasped.

"Holy fucking Jesus!"

That brought a chuckle.

"Careful Rory, or I will tell your dad."

"I think blasphemy may be the least of my sins mister foxy. So I might as well go down for it all."

His hand rested on the back of my head, ruffling my headfur, and he gently pushed me down. I complied, mainly because I wanted that fat calf cock more than anything in the world right now. And it was hot being guided by this willing stud. He wanted me, and that was the best of all.

Opening wide, I rubbed my lips on his head, drawing more groans and sighs. Then I engulfed his head, sliding up and down the angry purple mass, my lips rolling over the corona and onto his shaft, the beautiful ridged expanse of his stretched foreskin. He kept rubbing my headfur, and my ears, never forcing, and I went to work on my own terms, basking in the approval expressed in moos, moans, and occasional polite curses.

"Oh fuck yes mister....fucking hot mister....oh fuck...more mister....faster..."

I finally reached his groin, after a long period working up to it, my lips sliding further and further down his shaft. Deep throating, with his head tickling my tonsils, his scent and his pre filling my throat as much as his meat, the hot organ twitching like a baby bird. I stopped there, letting him enjoy, and reached for his scrotum. Thos enormous calf makers, they deserved worship of their own. I rubbed one with each paw, cupping them, stroking, concentrating on the underside where it seemed most sensitive. His cock spurted precum globules down my throat, his muzzle spurted obscene pleadings.

"Oh fuck please mister...oh fuck yes....please mister...I need to nut..."

Bobbing on his cock felt amazing. It twitched, it throbbed, and I felt every response. His whole body tensed, and I expected him to get rough, but he never did, the constant gentle caressing of my head in contrast to the tense muscle contortions of his hips, belly and chest as orgasm drew near. Then he lay back his head and let out a bellow mixed with a scream.

"Fuck....fuck...fuck...."

I felt the pulse of it in his cumtube, right against my lips. The first shot sprayed my throat, the second even more powerful almost drowned me. I swallowed hard, losing half it over his groin, and he kept shooting, his balls now drawn tight and pulsing too with each fresh shot. His expression was the most beautiful look on a guy I had ever seen. Eyes closed, head back, muzzle open, tongue lolling out.

When he was finished, he pulled me into his lap. I nuzzled his chest, finding nipple. I couldn't resist, I licked, then I nibbled, then I bit. He growled and laughed.

"Not bad city fox...now will you let me cornhole ya?"

I leaned back, heart throbbing in my chest, and looked at him. He was still the same smiling gentle bull, it seemed, but one with unknown tricks. It seemed my friend was no stranger to a bit of ass.

"Rory do you...um..."

"Had a couple of guys in the district, one at school. I like it is all, and you seem nice. Gave the best head Ive ever had, God be my witness. Better than any girl."

For some reason that heartwarmingly simple compliment pushed me over the edge. I stood and padded over to the bed, watching him follow as he downed another beer and let out a belch.

Unsure of his intentions, I just lay there and waited. He was a direct one, in proper country fashion. He pulled off the clothes he had given me efficiently if roughly. Top, shorts, boxers; I was naked on his bed, and he looked me over with a satisified grin.

"That's better. Makes things easier like."

Under his coaxing I lay on the bed, tail in the air. He took one of his pillows and lifted my groin, placing the pillow under it to give some altitude to my vulnerable ass. I lay there waiting and rapidly losing my sense of adventure.

Then I felt breath, warm breath. He returned the favour I had given, but not on my cock head. He lifted my tail with one hand, kneeling off the end of the bed, and leaned in and blew his warm breath on my ass.

It flooded over my hole, my taint, my ball. I whimpered, trying to push back to touch his snout but he used his grip on my tail to control me and kept it up. Straight teenage studs were not supposed to be this good at teasing.

"My last girlfriend liked me doing this to her pussy. Made her scream..."

His hand on my scrotum almost had the same effect on me, and then his tongue came into play and I did scream.

All the way from just under my hole, down my white furred taint, until he suckled my nuts in his big muzzle. SO warm and hot, so wet...it felt like falling into heaven. Back again, and this time....oh fuck, my hole. He licked a circuit of the crinkled skin, then pressed his tongue to me and forced me open easily.

My hole opened, relaxed and welcoming. He obliged, ramming in deeper, his fingers now pressed to the edge of my asslips keeping it wide open for his play. My claws scratched his sheets and broke through the thin cotton in one place, tearing a hole I couldn't give a fuck about repairing. I wanted him to tear me just like that, in a deep place I dare not acknowledge.

The sudden loss of warmth made me moan, and then I heard the creak of bed, felt the mass of a big bull behind me and I swallowed in renewed fear. An arm reached beside me to a little bedside table, and brought out a bottle.

"I keep it for night time fun. Comes in handy, don't you think mister?"

Yes, I had to admit it would. Might even leave me with an ass in one piece of he took it slow.

His fingers spread my hole, cold from the lube, the entry easy, their passage rougher. Right in, sawing in and out, coating my depths. I pushed back wanting more. His fingerhooves touched my prostate and I tore more holes in the sheets, my moans unrestrained now.

When I felt his hot thick head on my pucker, I tried to push back to help him. He didn't enter right away though, instead leaning over me, hands now wrapped in my paws, body over mine. I felt the rough fur of his chest on my back, his breath on my neck, his thighs between mine forcing my legs wider to open my pucker for its date with a bullcock.

"I'll stop if you tell me to mister..."

I bit my lip and swore to myself I wouldn't, even when the apple sized head punched inside me and I let out a sudden breath as an 'ooof' and found I couldn't breathe without crying out so I held it in instead. He stopped, kissing my neck more, and the back of my head, and my ears while his hands spread mine against the ruined fabric of his sheets.

"Sweet little fox...like disappearing into warm oatmeal. So nice..."

Another inch.

I let out a shuddering sigh, and pushed back a little. He whispered in my ear.

"I don't want to hurt you foxy. I'll take it slow...so slow and sweet, you will feel so good foxy..."

Oh I did. I did so much. He was true to his word, pulling back until the head was barely inside me and I was about to scream for him to stay, then in, long seconds on the way to each new depth. Not forcing, more working my hole, my tunnel, one blissful inch at a time.

When his balls finally touched mine, I cried a little. He licked my tears.

"That's it foxy. So good. Almost there now..."

His hips began to rock, the long slow strokes building, each thrust a little deeper into my guts. I exhaled on each thrust, when his hips slapped my cheeks and his balls swung forward to batter mine. It hurt, and it tingled, and it burned with pleasure. His weigh bore down on me, no longer holding himself up, his weight on me and crushing deliciously. I could feel his heart again through his chest against my back, mirroring the throb of his cock head in my deepest parts.

The throbbing became inside me, cock, hole, balls. It built, and I lifted my head and let out a yelp, my cock rubbing on his rough pillow. I backed against him, nearing the end, and then it ended.

Gasping for breath, I lay under him, the scent of bull in my nostrils along with my own cum.

"Did you cum foxy?"

"Oh fuck..."

He chuckled.

"Well, still have to finish myself now. Do you want it in or out?"

I chose in. He gripped my paws again and whispered.

"Hang on tighter than you did on the bike mister. This could be a rough ride."

He was true to his word there too. I was pummelled into the bed, the staccato slap of flesh on flesh accompanied by my rapid moans and his grunts and moos. My ass felt like it had been sandpapered, raw and tingling, close but not close enough to another release. I was about to complain when he let out a strangled gasp and I felt the thrusts become harder, deeper, wilder and then the spreading heat in my ass told me I had been bred completely and he collapsed on my back with a sheen of sweat between us.

"Sweet fox."

I let him rest for a while, before he pulled out with a loud plop that made me wince as my ass felt like it had an encounter with razorblades. He seemed to sense my discomfort though, because the next thing I felt was that tongue soothing my hole again. Ive always loved the idea of a guy licking his cum from my ass. Never had it until today. It was as good as I hoped, better even.

Lying there content, I had felt him cuddle me from behind, by the wall, as I looked over the window at the light playing through the curtains. Late, almost night. The breeze soothed my body and evaporated the sweat. I felt a fat length against my cheeks, spreading them, pushing at my tail and my pucker.

"Need more..."

I groaned in not entirely mock anger. I remembered being that horny once, but I was twenty-six now and that was a while ago. Eighteen year olds could be a pain in the ass, literally.

He was gentle though, lifting one leg, entering from behind, using only his tip. It was heaven, the head nestled right against my prostate, and I came easily, one paw on my cock, spraying a gusher off the bed. He pulled out and I heard him jacking, and I turned to see him spurt too, all over my chest and belly. He looked so content, and we lay again in the twilight.

"You got my boots..."

I reached down to pick one up, a hefty work boot worn and dusty and now covered with a line of fox spunk. It looked a perfect decoration, and I put it to my muzzle and drank in the scent of stud bull hoof and sweat and spunk. His boxers next, for more sensory delights.

"You are a strange one mister. Are all as strange as you from where you come from?"

"Easily Rory. You have no fucking idea...I know, swearing..."

"Too fucking right Carter. Too fucking right."

I fell asleep in his arms, wondering why I felt a vague unease.

****

I awoke to a darkened room, and a sudden realisation. I knew where the unease came from.

"I never told you my name!"

Trying to get up, I found that impossible for some reason, a reason that became obvious once the dark figure in the armchair near the doorway turned on a lamp.

He was sitting there, with the rifle across his lap, and my briefcase open beside him. And he was not smiling.

"Easy does it mister. Don't fight it."

I tried, but it was no use. With the limited mobility available to me I could see that my hindpaws had been tied to the bedposts, and my paws were tied behind my back. I looked at him with terror in my eyes as he sifted through the papers in my case.

"So, Mister Carter. From First Channel Bank."

I swallowed.

"Rory..."

"Rory Mitchell. "

Still polite. He gave me a little nod even now.

"So, I guess you know then..."

He nodded. "We were waiting for you mister, but you came a day early. The trap was laid on the road, but pa was away. I wanted to make sure, so I rode along there and found you. Almost too easy."

"Rory, believe me, its just business. It happens all the time..."

"Does it mister? Do you get foreclosed all the time? Do you lose the house and the farm thats been in your family for four generations? Really?"

"Rory..."

"Save it mister. I may be a hick, but I aint dumb. And I aint buying."

"What the fucking hell boy?"

I looked up, to see a new figure at the doorway. Momentary hope blossomed. A big bull, grizzled, with a salt and pepper beard and long horns with one chipped. He looked at me with narrow eyes.

"Please! Help!"

"I got him pa, like I said. I told you he might be early."

The bull nodded, and my ears flopped in resignation. I was well and truly fucked.

"So I see son. I told you not to do anything. I told you to wait..."

"Well, I did it now pa. We're in it."

I heard a deep sigh from the older bull, and he held out his hand for the rifle. Rory gave it to him with a shrug and pulled his legs up onto the chair, his arms hunched over rocking slowly.

"Not much of a renegade, are you son."

A single tear dropped from his eye and he nodded.

The older bull worked the rifle bolt, and ejected the bullet. I sighed a deep sigh of relief.

"So what do you propose doing with him now boy?"

"Well, he likes bull cock. Maybe we could keep him?"

A chuckle, and the bull ruffled his son's headfur. "I will deal with you later boy."

I didn't like the sound of that, but before I could say anything, the bigger bull was by my side. He sat on the bed, and ran a callused hand over my back.

"Did a nice job tying him up at least...ohhhh my...."

His hand had reached my ass now, and I blushed again as I felt him play with my hole. Fuck it hurt...but it felt so good being touched.

"Here too..."

The hand slid under me, stroking my cock. I realised horrified that I was hard, achingly hard, and the stroke made me yelp for more.

"Always wanted to stick it to the bank..."

The creak of bed springs was ominous, as was the sound of a jeans zipper opening. I felt thighs encased in denim between mine, spreading my legs wider, forcing my knees out like a frog.

Hands appeared by my head. A muzzle nosed at my neck. He was over me, his chest on my back. Like father like son it seemed. A fat cockhead pressed at my raw hole, demanding entry.

Not so like son here. He rammed inside in one powerful thrust. I yelled, the yell cut short by a hand over my muzzle. The other worked its way under my chest, to my groin, and over my cock. He jacked me, teasing, while he forced more fat bullcock inside. The ridge of his cockhead slipped past my prostate and I moaned again, and pushed back. Oh God he felt good.

"You are right there son. He does like some bull meat, and it feels like you bred this hole enough times to drive a well right to China."

He was slow then, like Rory, after the initial painful entry. Slow, steady, in no rush. He wasn't about to cum, and he kept me on the edge. I looked to the side to see the calf, cock out, jacking, and he gave me a thumbs up. Oh fuck he looked amazing.

The bull inside me left his muzzle right next to my ear, and I heard his little taunts turn to gasps turn to moans. He was feeling it, the need, and I felt it too. But it was the calf that pushed me over, watching him self pleasuring and then the moment of his orgasm, an ejaculation spurting over his head to leave strings dangling from his horns.

I gushed into the urgent hand rubbing my length. It hurt. And yet I was still hard.

There was another grunt, another creak, and another bull climbed on the bed at my muzzle. He lifted me gently into his lap, and pressed a still erect cock to my lips. I suckled like a lamb, enjoying the chorus of grunts and moans from the two bulls, one in my muzzle, one now pounding my ass again. The groans stopped though, to be replaced by a bull kiss, and I imagined that scene, enough to shoot again just as daddy bull filled my tunnel with a fresh load of bull milk.

They finally untied me, but not before I got to see another awe-inspiring spectacle. Rory's pa seemed to think junior needed his discipline now for disobeying, so he made the young bull drape himself naked over his lap as he sat on the armchair, and gave his ass a decent hiding with one hand. It seemed the size of a dinnerplate, and the smacks echoed round the room like rifle shots. I shuddered, thinking of the rifle, and thanked my lucky stars for many things. Even this.

When it was done, and the sniffling calf rubbed his ass, his dad motioned to me.

"Untie him son, and see if he can help you with that."

I did, of course. Laid now free on the bed, I found I didn't want to escape. Instead, I had a young bull squat over my muzzle, and I licked his sore cheeks, huge bowls of muscle, and then the cleft of his ass as he swore and used the lord's name in vain at least a dozen times.

Pushing my tongue into his hole, I was rewarded with a cry and the feel of bull hole clenched right around my tongue. His nuts rested on my chest, like an offering, full of spunk.

"Do you think we can keep him pa?"

"You will have to ask him that Rory."

He moved just enough, and I suckled each massive testicle, feeling them pulse with life as he rode my muzzle, and his dad lifted my legs and slid inside me easy now, my well spread pucker giving up any pretense of fight and just needing the feel of bull meat inside. They were kissing again above me, and as Rory now took charge of my legs, his dad took charge of his son's cock, the moos of delight warning me as much as the feel of a young bull nut throbbing on the brink what was to come. My fur was matted now, bathed in bull spunk. I felt there could be no better way to be.

So what did I do? Well, I guess the answer is obvious now, three years later. That is why I left my job in a bank, my bonus, my apartment, and my hook-ups on Grindr and moved to the sticks to be business manager for the farms in the district. Knowing the inside scoop on how banks work meant I could forestall the bank a while, and renegotiate their loan, and I have managed to keep things ticking on nicely. I miss my latte, and my cafes and my city, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Every night I get my hole filled with two big bull cocks, and sleep with them cuddling me with the sound of nothing outside the window but the night.

Just shows even a banker can learn the value of something and not just the price. And bullcock will always remain...priceless.