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The Milking Farm (Reboot)

Chapter 2: Integration

Sponsored by DuskCypher

By Draconicon

With a guide in Victor, Owen was led from the walls to the center of the prison floor. Everything felt so off, so different, so...wrong, for lack of a better word. The ground beneath his feet bent and gave under his soles, and every so often, if he took a step the wrong way, it almost felt like he was walking on a trampoline. The grasses, such as they were, were soft enough that they didn't really feel like grass, but it didn't feel like the latex that it looked like, either. He kept reminding himself that it was something wrong, something artificial, but it didn't really stick with the haze of aphrodisiacs in the air and the strange, clinging feeling of the anklets, bracelets, and collar that he was wearing.

The fact that his cock was throbbing hard and his balls were churning like never before was a constant distraction. It didn't help that Victor was as erect as he was, nor that the jackal was completely nonchalant about it. The robotic horses had been one thing, but this was something ever so different.

He shivered as he was led up to the cluster of different 'homes' that were situated in the middle of the prison floor, looking at the different species. There was a lioness - no, lion, from the cock down there - that had just looked up from rubbing their ass, a finger prodding at a loosening pucker, and the feline waved. Owen blushed, waving back weakly, still following the jackal.

"So, what are you here for?" Victor asked as they passed by the artificial houses.

"Me?"

"You're the one I'm talking to, aren't you? Unless you have a second personality already."

"No - wait, does that happen?"

"Sometimes. It gets a little lonely if you're not socializing. Sometimes, the guards give you one if you don't want to talk to other people."

"..."

"Yeah, it's not a regular thing, but hey, sometimes it's interesting."

This place is fucked up...

Victor finally stopped at the house at the far end of the little cluster of them, pulling at a door that looked half-liquid. It bent in the middle before opening, revealing an interior that was bathed in hypnotic spirals and swirls. Just looking at it made him feel dizzy and woozy, and he covered his eyes, looking down at the ground instead.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Just their way of keeping us docile. Come on."

The anubian jackal gently pulled him in, and the raccoon went along with it more out of a desire to keep from being left behind than anything else. He was already so lost with what was going on that he didn't want to risk losing anymore.

The furniture was soft, too, risen from the floor and shaped so that it was part of the same overall structure as the house. Experimentally, he dragged his claws across the latex-like stuff, but it barely bent. There was no way for him to rip through it. Whatever it was, it was layered so that it didn't exactly have a weak spot. He gripped it anyway, sinking his claws into it as deep as he could just to have something solid to hold onto.

As Victor sat down across from him, the jackal reached down and fondled himself, stroking a finger in a circle around the base of his knot. The other male's balls dangled down low, almost coming over the edge of the chair, and a little dribble of pre-cum started flowing down from the tapered tip.

"So, what are you in for? You didn't say," the other man repeated.

"Peeping," he muttered, looking down at the ground.

"Heh, they caught you peeping on someone? Why didn't you just go to a show?"

"I don't know. Felt better to...you know, break the rules a bit."

"How'd they catch you?"

"..."

"You thumped the window, didn't you?"

"Just a bit."

"Well, at least you're in good company. We're all perverts here."

"...All guys, too?"

"Well, we all have cocks," Victor said, hefting his own. "That lioness you saw calls themselves a her, but she had that cock when she came in. No idea if she's in transition or was born with it or whatever, but she's a her with a dick."

"...Are there any others like that?"

"Eighteen prisoners on Tier Three, and I'd say about four of them are different from some of us regular guys."

The jackal shrugged, though Owen wasn't paying as much attention. He was a bit more focused on the fact that he was surrounded by a bunch of guys that had been convicted of being perverts of some sort or another.

The Sexual Protection Laws weren't exactly damning to those that had needs, but rather were protective of those that were trying to enjoy themselves. Yeah, it had given him prison time rather than a fine for breaking the rule about visual consent, but that was something that was on the harsher end of the spectrum. He didn't expect to be surrounded by rapists or anything like that, but at the same time...

"Um...what are you in for?" he asked, trying to not look at the various spirals and warping colors all around him, and trying even harder not to touch himself. It was getting more and more difficult as time went by, and he was having a harder and harder time not reaching down between his legs. Particularly as his balls felt heavier than he'd ever experienced in his lifetime.

"Oh, nothing much. Forgetting to pay a couple prostitutes, investing in a few illegal cock mods. That sort of thing."

"...Nothing rapey?"

"Nope. Never had much of a thing for that," the jackal said, shrugging. "And if I did, they'd start taking that out of me as soon as I got here."

"With all the..."

He gestured around at the various spinny colors that kept changing, shifting, spiraling, blooming around him. There were a hundred different points where the eyes wanted to settle, each one trying to do something to him, and he had to keep twisting his head around and around, trying to find something that didn't suck him in.

Victor nodded.

"Yeah, that, and the different milking sessions that they put us through. There's a lot of therapy going on there."

"Mmmph...therapy? Milking sessions?"

"They call it the Milking Farm for a reason, you know."

"You mean..."

He slowly reached down to his balls, gently closing his fingers around them. The tightness that the orbs were putting off made him shiver. They felt so...taut. So tight. So full. He didn't even know why; it wasn't like he had done anything, but they needed to be emptied. As he gripped them, he started rolling them in his palm, moaning under his breath.

"Heh, yes, though you should probably stop playing with them."

"Mmmph...Hard..."

"I know."

The jackal reached over, gently pulling his hand to the side. The raccoon shivered, trying to deal with that tension down there. Tightness. That was the feeling, the way that his cock felt so hard that the skin felt drawn tight around the shaft, so throbbing hard that he didn't dare touch it without lube. His balls weren't swollen, but they felt like they were filled to the brim, like they should look like overfilled water balloons.

Owen couldn't even bring himself to cross or close his legs. All he could do was stare down at his groin, watching as his cock throbbed up, then down, then up again, pre-cum draining along the side of the shaft.

"So...what...they...they milk us? Why?"

"I dunno." Victor shrugged. "Far as I can tell, it's something to do while they work the real rehab work on us."

"The real - what the hell do they want? Really? This just feels like...like some pervert's dream shop or something."

"Well, it kind of is, I guess. The technicians definitely have their fun sometimes."

"Fun?"

"Not like you're going to care when you get milked. Trust me. Your mind goes somewhere else entirely when you're going through that."

Victor certainly seemed to be somewhere else himself as he said that, rubbing his cock a few times as he leaned back in his chair. The jackal's eyes fixed on a spot just over Owen's head, and the raccoon saw the other man's eyes start to roll back, filling with colors themselves.

He waited, looking down at the ground, knowing that the jackal would be back eventually. Or at least, he hoped that was the case.

In the meantime, he couldn't help but think more about his own situation. The raccoon hadn't had a lot of experience with other guys. Once or twice, yeah, and there was that one girl that hadn't completely transitioned over that had been a bit of fun, but he hadn't exactly gotten fucked regularly. His prostate wasn't used to being pounded like he imagined some of the guys here were.

And nor was he used to the big things back there. That was why that big metal tube had been such a pain during the exam. He didn't know what it was really like to be around an all-dick environment. Sausage parties had never really been his thing.

And now, he couldn't get out of it.

"Mmmph..."

He gritted his teeth as the gasses in the air continued to feed his libido, making him feel sensitive from head to toe. He had never, ever been that focused on his nipples before, but now they were so hard and sensitive that he could feel every individual strand of fur touching them. Now, he could feel every little detail of the floor beneath his feet. Now, he could feel the way that his fur caressed his neck and brushed up against the latex collar on it, and how the collar itself rubbed against him.

He reached up, rubbing it, tugging on it, but it was too close to his skin to get a grip on it properly. Just as he started to curl his fingers, he felt a different tingle. The raccoon froze as he felt something oozing out of the collar, running down his fingers, looking down -

"Oh fuck...oh fuck, Victor, Victor what is this?!"

The collar had melted against his fingers, trapping them there, and the black ooze was running down his digits and holding them together. He couldn't move three - no, four of his fingers, and the more he struggled, the further it went.

He was just about to completely lose it when Victor was there, holding him by the wrists.

"Calm down. Stop pulling."

"It's covering me. It's -"

"Calm down. It's a punishment mechanism. The more you struggle, the more it's going to bind you up. Calm down and stop pulling."

"Nnngh..."

"Just...calm down..."

Whimpering, the raccoon did his best to stop pulling at the collar. Even as it felt like it was trying to leave him completely helpless, he stopped tugging on it, taking one deep breath after another. It was almost impossible to completely calm down, but he did his best. Slowly, his heart beat started to go down, and he stopped panting...

And then the goo started to pull off his fingers. He could bring his hand down, and he shivered from head to toe. Victor patted his head.

"There, see?"

"What...what was..."

"You're supposed to keep the gear on. You try and take it off, it starts making sure you can't."

"But...but..."

"Heh. You'll get used to it."

"Mmph. You keep saying that, but how do you get used to any of this?"

"That's what the hypnotic stuff is for. And everything else. This whole place is to get you to be less of a pain in the ass out in the real world."

"..."

"And it works, if you let it."

Shaking his head, Owen looked down at his hands. He was starting to think that real prison would have been better than this. At least there, he would have had some guaranteed rights, whereas here, it seemed like people could do whatever they wanted to him for the purposes of 'fixing' him. Was that really fair?

He didn't think so.

Still, it was hard for him to stay focused on his worries for long, particularly with his cock never bothering to go down. Every time that he tried to think about the situation being unfair, he'd take another breath and his cock would throb, his attention drawn south. The raccoon tried to ignore his bobbing, throbbing, twitching cock, but it was like trying to ignore his own heartbeat. Not easy.

Particularly not with Victor leaning back on his chair, shamelessly showing off his body, his cock, his balls, even sometimes going all the way back so that he could run a finger along his asshole. Every time that he did that, the raccoon blushed, looking off to the side.

Then he'd find himself staring at the hypnotic spirals and waves of color again. He kept almost getting caught in it, and when he did, he felt like he was staring into the abyss of color, feeling himself slowly falling forward into it. The only thing that knocked him back out again was hearing a voice in his own head, something that made him shiver and pull back, since there was only him and Victor in the room.

"Mmmph..."

"Don't worry. You'll probably be getting your first milking later."

"Is there any way out of here?" he asked, blushing as he crossed his legs. "Or, you know, a way to get in touch with your lawyer? I...I think I want to rethink this deal."

"Well, I guess you can try. I never found any reason to do it, but that's because it's kinda fun for me."

"...Why?"

"Well, I'm gay, to start, so that helps a lot, heh. And really, considering how fun it is in here, I think I prefer this over prison."

"...Why?"

"Do you want to be stuck in a smaller cell with even less to do all the time, with guards that are worse than the ones here?"

"..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Ding, dong, ding. A gentle bell rang out, and Victor smiled.

"Ah, that'll be lunch. You haven't eaten, I'm guessing?"

Owen shook his head.

"Then you'll need some food. Come with me."

Once more, they were on the move, and once more, he felt more exposed than ever. All the other inmates on the floor were making the same trip they were, going over to one wall where the black, shimmering goo had pulled away, leaving a series of slots in the wall where trays were being pushed out. They were the same sort of material as the rest of the prison, and he imagined that they were to leave the trays on the ground to be reabsorbed when they were done.

Victor grabbed a tray for him, and then looked over his shoulder.

"Fish or chicken?"

"Uh, fish?" Owen said.

"Two slots down."

He blinked, looking down the wall. Poking out of one of the slots was a tray with two baked fish fillets on it, as well as a small helping of potatoes. It was surprisingly nice looking, and he wondered why they were given something so...good.

The raccoon took the tray, trying to ignore the stares he was getting from behind and just focus on the food in his hands. It smelled good, soft and a bit rich with hints of lemon and pepper. He fell in line behind Victor again, focusing on the jackal - and just the jackal, not his ass, or at least not completely.

They sat down on the 'grass', and as soon as they did, he could feel it rubbing along his ass cheeks. It wasn't...unpleasant, but it was a bit more than he had been expecting, and his cheeks burned as it felt almost like fingers and tongues rubbing around his ass. Some of them were dangerously close to his hole, too, so he shifted his posture, moving to kneel rather than sit.

Victor, of course, didn't seem to care.

"Heh, that shy about what the ground's doing to you?"

"It's weird."

"You'll learn to like it."

"Yeah...doubt it."

He shook his head. Without any tools, he had to eat with his fingers. With the potatoes that was a bit hard, but he could scoop it without that much difficulty. The fish was easy, and more importantly, it was delicious.

Owen moaned under his breath as he consumed the food, leaning his head back and savoring the taste that rolled across his tongue. Lemony, savory, with that light fluff of a proper bit of fish, it was just what he wanted. He groaned under his breath, licking his fingers to get all the taste of the little lemon sauce on it down his throat, half-afraid that he'd never get something like that again in the prison.

However, he was still licking the tray clean when he felt something else.

"Mmmph."

The raccoon felt like a stone had suddenly landed in his guts, spreading through his stomach and down into his intestines. He hugged his middle, biting his lip for a moment.

"Mmmph...what...what the hell..."

"Oh, right. The drugs."

"What the hell?!"

"Look, this is the Milking Farm. If we weren't given some supplements, we'd be milked dry in half a session."

"Mmmph...then don't...don't...ah...ah..."

He shivered, falling forward, almost slumping completely onto his stomach. As it was, he was almost planking, the half-living black grass stroking him with smooth tendrils. They were gentle, like little massaging strands against his chest and stomach, but he was so sensitive that even that turned erotic in short order. The raccoon twisted his head left and right, trying to ignore the pleasure that was coming from between his legs, but when the tendrils started to rub down there, too, it was impossible to put out of his head.

"Mmph...ah...ah..."

His cock throbbed hard, starting to squirt pre-cum into the grass. His toes curled, some of the tendrils trapped between them, but it was the heat in his balls that held his attention. That weight had hit the bottom of his stomach and spread from there, and now...now it was deep between his legs.

"Ah...holy...fuck..."

He closed his eyes tightly, fighting to keep speaking as Victor rubbed the back of his head in sympathy. It was so intense, so...so hot...

His balls had felt tight and heavy ever since he'd taken that first breath of the gaseous aphrodisiac, but now it was getting stronger. He could actually feel his cum swirling around in his balls, getting heavier and more plentiful by the second. His balls were pushing against his thighs, and then pulsing, and pushing harder. Forced to spread his legs more and more, he found his balls sagging until they rested on the ground.

"Mmmph...ah...nnngh..."

He was moaning despite himself, arching his back as he dragged his swelling, churning balls against the black latex grass. They continued to stroke and tease, rubbing and tugging on his balls, and his balls kept churning, kept growing.

How big...how big...

Even his thoughts were scattered, his mouth hanging open in a long moan. He could almost hear a few chuckles further off, but they were unimportant. All that mattered were his balls right then and there, the sagging, tugging, heavy feeling of being so full. They felt like he hadn't emptied them for weeks, perhaps months. They tugged at the base of his cock, almost like they were the more important thing down there.

He tried to lift himself up, but just pulling his legs together was too much stimulation. His balls...were they fist-sized? Bigger? It felt bigger, but he couldn't move enough to look. He tried to drag himself forward, but he could feel his balls dragging through the grass, and the grass stroked at them like a hundred eager tongues.

"Mmmph...fuck..."

"If you have to cum, cum, but try and hold it."

"I...I don't know..."

"Try."

Victor's words were all that he had, and he knew better than to dismiss them out of hand. The raccoon shivered, gripping the grass between his fingers, suffering through the pleasure of his balls churning and growing and swelling and tightening. His toes did the same, almost pulling some of the latex strands up as it continued.

He'd thought that his balls had been taut and tight with fullness before, but that was nothing compared to this. It felt like they were so full that they might burst, in the best of ways. They were so sensitive, so delicate-feeling, and the gentle licking from the grasses had his cock oozing hard. He bit his lip, rolling his head to the side, huffing hard as he felt his tail rising up, his hole twitching behind his balls.

Eventually, the growth ceased. He panted for breath, lowering his hips again, letting them rest against the grass. His head rolled to the side, and he whimpered under his breath as the urgent need that he'd had slowly started to die down to that moderate, burning lust that he had been getting from the gasses in the air.

Somehow, that no longer felt so overwhelming in comparison.

"You good?" Victor asked.

"Mmmph...mm-hmm."

"Need a hand up?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Alright. Hang on."

The jackal reached under him, holding his balls gently before pulling them forward. Owen followed, trying to match his motion with the gentle support that he had down there. It took some effort, and he had to keep his legs spread, but he managed it, getting to his feet with a deep breath.

"Alright. You'll want to hold onto these. They're pretty heavy when you first start with this."

He did as he was told, bringing his hands down between his legs. He could feel just how heavy it was down there, but he had no idea of how much he'd grown until the jackal stepped back and let him look.

His balls were big enough that they needed to be cradled in both hands, and he could see that the fur had been pushed apart, his balls big enough that one could see the strained, stretched flesh through the gray and black fur. He blushed harder than ever, particularly as he could feel the sloshing, swimming seed on the inside, and he wondered just how much was in there.

God, they're heavy, too...so heavy...

He tried to take a step, and had to almost waddle from just how big they were. He grimaced, but not from pain. It was just such an overwhelming feeling, and when he tried to bring his hands down, it was like they were trying to drag his cock down with them.

"Mmmph...how...how..."

"They do this every day. It's how they keep us ready for the milking," Victor said. "See?"

Turning, the raccoon looked down, only to see another massive sac hanging from the jackal. Unlike him, though, Victor didn't seem to need to support them. He just stood there, letting them hang and settle over his thighs, hiding half of each thigh from view from just how huge they were.

It was impossible, just like the rest of the prison.

"Fuck...fucking hell..."

"Yeah, they like them big. Means that there's more to milk."

"You sure that this place isn't just for pervert guards to get off on what they're doing to us?"

"I think that they have a good idea."

"Hmmph. They just turned us into big-balled freaks."

"Trust me, we'll need it for the milking."

"You keep...why do they need to milk us?"

"Because that's how we get out of here. We have a quota that we have to meet. The more that we get into it, the better they can measure our progress. Either we stay here and try and be miserable, resisting the rehabilitation - which, by the way, makes the milking way less fun - and only cum a little bit each time, or we have fun with it, embrace it, and we cum our brains out and learn our proper place in society. The faster we learn, the faster we get out."

"...We...cum our way out?"

"Hopefully through rehabilitation, but yes."

Victor nodded, hefting his sac once before letting it drop. He grunted at the sudden impact to his body, the weight of his heavy, swollen orbs making his cock bounce up and down a couple of times before settling in.

...This is bullshit. This has to be bullshit.

Yet, everything had been going exactly the way that Victor had described so far. All the other guys were mellow, though they had been a bit amused by what had happened to him as he had gone through the first ball growth. He shivered still at the feeling of his heavy sac in his hands, and he dared not do the same thing that Victor had. He was pretty sure that something would tear, or at least strain.

Even so...

He found himself looking away, staring at a wall, and before he knew it, he found himself slipping. The colors were taking over his vision, gently filling his head with a strange, rounded feeling of red and green and yellow, all rolling together. They pulled his eyes closer to the center of those colors, leaving him staring off into the distance, distracted, almost happy from the colors alone.

The voice returned, soft and masculine, something that echoed in the back of his skull as he watched.

Look at the colors. Aren't they beautiful? Aren't they lovely? Aren't they making such wonderful patterns?

He nodded before he realized that he had, and the colors pulled him in deeper, the voice whispering as if it was even closer to him than it had started. Gentle, comforting, mature, experienced.

Yes, such a warm color, a warm pattern to watch. Just let it wash over you. So simple, so easy. No real effort. And you don't really have anything else to do, do you?

Owen shook his head, and the voice seemed to take it as an answer.

No, nothing to do here, nothing to do but stare at the colors. So why not stare and listen? Why not just let this happen, let me whisper to you a bit? It would be something to take away the boredom, and you've been so bored...so very bored...

Bored...yes...

Owen started to slip a bit, only for the jackal to poke him along the shoulder. He blinked, shaking his head, and the spell was broken.

"Huh? What?"

"Heh, how do you like the trance?"

"Mmmph. Is that...does that ever stop?"

"Nope. It's there all the time."

"Mmmph. I just want to...I don't know. I just want it to be..."

Victor patted his shoulder, but Owen didn't know if the jackal even understood what was going on for him at that moment. Everyone else, all the males - and others - that he could see were all completely comfortable here. He didn't know how they could be, unless they were all like this in the outside world.

He had just been peeping on a lady, someone that had been stripping off as part of her job, and he was here in the middle of a bunch of dicks, and now he had to make himself enjoy this if he wanted to get out.

Enjoy it and be better, he thought. The prison was supposed to rehabilitate them, make them better when they were released. In this case, he still thought that they were mostly here for the amusement of the guards and the staff members.

He was about to say so when there was another ding, dong, ding that echoed through the floor. Victor groaned, lowering his tray to the ground. Just as Owen had expected, the latex took it away, making it disappear as if it had never been.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"That's the ringing for the afternoon milking."

"Food then work? That's kinda rough," he said, trying to make light of it.

"Well, once the drugs kick in, you want to milk those balls pretty quick." The jackal was already on the move, and as he gestured for the raccoon to follow, Owen fell in step behind him. "That's just the first surge."

"First...surge..."

"Yep. They get even bigger if you don't get someone draining them."

"..."

He picked up the pace. He was pretty sure that his balls were already at their limits. Even if he wasn't keen on the prospect of milking, he sure as hell didn't want to risk them going pop. No matter how...pleasurable...the feeling of them being so big was.

Whatever the milking was, it would have to be better than that.

As the small cluster of prisoners walked towards the far side of the rounded floor, a part of the wall peeled away. It revealed something like a hospital ward, with isolated rooms where various machines were slowly rising from the floor and lowering from the ceiling. More latex-garbed professionals walked in from doors that opened and closed behind the machines, manning them.

Owen shivered, and he honestly wasn't sure if it was in anticipation of pleasure or from the creep factor of the whole thing.

The End

Summary: Owen starts getting to know Victor, and gets a bit of a rundown of what's going on here. He doesn't know what's happening, still, but he's gradually getting a picture of how the prison works.

Tags: M/solo, latex, bondage, raccoon, jackal, series, prison, naughty, nudity, goo, ball growth, drugs, aphrodisiacs, hypnosis, throbbing, pre-cum, dripping, public,