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The Milking Farm (Reboot)

Chapter 5: Complaint Denied

Sponsored by Sanmer

By Draconicon

Owen took to keeping his eyes closed most of the time. Sure, it meant that he had to fondle his way through the main room, but at least it meant that he had a better chance of not getting zonked out at random points. He kept his eyes closed, his hands against the wall, and wandered from place to place as he tried to figure out what he was going to do about staying here.

After all, there had to be something in the law that prohibited anyone messing with the minds of prisoners. That had to be against the rules, something that was illegal with prisoner rights or something like that. Right? That was what he was hoping for, at the very least. If there was some set of rules that the Farm was breaking, then he could get an exception, or a removal, or something. Maybe he could get out of here, be placed somewhere else since the system had abused him.

He wasn't thinking very clearly, and he knew that. The milking session had drained most of his energy, and the raccoon had just spent more giving Victor the right to fuck him. Hell, he could still feel the jackal's cum inside his ass, and the slick, wet feeling down there was constantly reminding him of how it felt to be a bitch, and how tired he was.

He groaned, sliding down the latex wall behind him, feeling the grass slowly rising up to caress his balls as he sat down. The big orbs were still insanely sensitive, and he was doing his best to ignore that.

Trying to.

His cock continued to throb at the attention, though, so there was only so much that he could do. The raccoon thunked his head back against the wall, shaking his head again and again as he imagined how it was going to go for the rest of his time here.

No, no. No more thinking of that. Just...focus on the positives. Think of how you can get out.

There was nothing for it except insisting on talking to the Warden, he felt. He had to find some way of getting an appointment.

"Hey."

That was Victor. He opened one eye, not surprised to see that the jackal was still hard. The canine sat down beside him, leaning back against the wall with him. The smell of musk was still thick in the air, particularly as the canine pulled his arms up and back, leaning back on them.

"Feeling that fucked?"

"I'm not supposed to be here," Owen said, closing his eyes. "I looked at one lady in her home, and now I'm here."

"Heh, you didn't ask permission."

"Shouldn't fucking matter."

"Yeah, but it does."

"Hmmph. Only to those new...ugh. Why am I arguing with you?"

"Because you can't argue with yourself?"

"...Shut up."

"Like you asked me to shut up about your feet?"

The raccoon curled his toes, tucking them under his legs. Not that he wanted to think about that, either. The computer had said that he had a foot fetish, and he didn't want it to be right. If it was right about that, it might be right about all the other things that it had been talking about.

He shuffled back and forth, trying to ignore the latex 'grass' licking over his asshole, almost like it was sucking the cum and creampie from earlier out of there. He groaned as he felt one or two strands rubbing right against his pucker, sliding in ever so slightly and keeping him stretched open.

"Is there anything in this place that doesn't try to fuck you?"

"Not really."

"Ugh..."

"Hey, relax. You relax, it'll be a lot more fun."

"They want to change me. I'm not letting them do more than that."

"You're fighting an impossible battle there, you know."

"Don't care."

"Your funeral."

He grumbled to himself, shaking his head as he tried to think through what he needed to do. First off, he needed to get out of here. If he didn't get that by good behavior, that meant that he needed to work the system. And if that didn't work? Well, there was the chance of a jail break, though he wasn't sure how well that'd work.

First off, working the system.

"How do I talk to the Warden?" he asked.

"Heh, why do you want to do that?"

"To complain, mostly."

"You think that'll do any good?"

"Can't hurt."

He could almost feel Victor shaking his head. Owen refused to believe that meant anything. After all, they were here by the rule of law. That meant that there had to be rules that the people here followed, too, and not just the rules that said how and when people could be used and abused.

There had to be more to it than that.

"So, how do I do it?" he asked again.

"Just ask one of the techs, I guess."

"And how the hell do I do that? Wait for the next milking time?"

"Nah, just knock on the wall where you got milked."

"...And where's that?"

"Well, open your eyes."

Knowing that it was going to flood him with those same feelings of 'relaxation' as before, Owen took a deep breath. That hit him with the aphrodisiac gasses, too, but that wasn't really avoidable. He took a moment to settle his mind, then opened his eyes.

The swirling colors on the wall and ceiling pulled at his eyes, but he kept himself staring towards the ground. The rolling, swirling grasses were not harmless, but they weren't so immediately hypnotic as the stuff in the air.

He kept his head down, still fighting the burning need that just breathing gave him, his cock throbbing still, the black tendrils of grass rubbing along his balls, and then up to the base of his cock, like eager fingers. Tongues, too, in some places.

"So...what now?"

"Just look up, man. It's not like everything's trying to get you."

"Close enough," Owen muttered, but did as he was asked.

This time, he saw the spinning colors on the walls, but there was something different when he pushed himself to focus. There were places where the wall was a bit...different, not spiraling, but rather pulsing. He cocked his head to the side, staring a bit closer, and he saw that there were little numbers here and there, numbers like door numbers.

"What the hell?"

"Heh, it lets people know where to line up if they're eager, or if there's an emergency. You remember where you were milked?"

"Station seven," he said, then blinked. "How the hell do I remember that?"

"Hypnosis is awesome."

"...Not really."

"Well, can be."

Victor nodded towards station seven, and he realized that he could see that there was a little number, glowing in a different color than the spiraling shades that were everywhere else. Owen took a moment to memorize the direction, then closed his eyes and stood up.

"When I get there, I just...ask?"

"Yep."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"..."

"Go on. If you want to cause trouble for yourself, just go get it done."

Owen didn't want trouble, but he wanted to get the hell out of here more than anything else. He wasn't supposed to be here. He hadn't done anything wrong. All he'd done was -

Big things deserve your respect.

He groaned under his breath at that phrase popping into his head again. He was trying to ignore it, trying to pretend that it had never happened, and it kept on coming back. There had to be a way to deal with that, somehow. He'd figure out a way.

For now, though, he had other things to do.

Keeping his eyes closed, he stumbled forward, only occasionally course correcting when he heard someone else walking by. Of course, that meant opening his eyes for a split second to find where he needed to go again, but that short an exposure shouldn't cause any real problems...he hoped...

He reached the station wall, and as soon as he rested his wrist against it, the colors faded. It opened up at face level, creating a bubble of sorts that allowed him to look inside, and allowed the ferret on the other side to look out and see him.

Tap tap.

Owen rapped his knuckles against the bubble, and the ferret immediately looked up. The technician looked a bit startled, as well as a bit naked. The latex nurse outfit had come off, and the ferret didn't have anything else on, not even underwear. Yet, there was no shame as the other guy walked up to the bubble.

"Sorry about that, didn't expect you to need anything so soon. Everything feeling alright down there?"

"I - yeah, but that's not why I'm here."

"What's up, then?"

"I want to talk to the Warden."

He said it half-expecting to be laughed away, but instead, the ferret fixed him with a stare that told him that they were taking it seriously. As the ferret held up a finger and walked out of view, Owen was honestly surprised.

They do all this to us, and then they actually pay attention to complaints?

If it wasn't so surreal, he might have been impressed.

A few seconds later, a hole in the latex wall opened up, and the ferret gestured for him to come through. He did as he was told, trying not to blush at still being naked, at wearing nothing more than the latex at his wrists, ankles, and neck. Even though the ferret was naked too, the authority difference between the pair of them made it impossible to get comfortable.

"So, what's the problem?" the ferret asked, dragging some real clothes out of a locker.

"I want to talk about...about this not being fair."

"Oh, boy..."

"Look, this isn't. It really isn't. I'm sure that I'm allowed protection against hypnosis or something under prisoner rights."

"Sir, I understand you're upset -"

"Just...let me talk to the Warden. Or give me a phone call out."

The ferret shook his head as he pulled on a shirt, his dong still hanging out and flopping about. The other male looked like he wanted to argue, but at the same time, the nurse sighed.

"Okay...Look. I'll take you to the Warden, but I don't think you're going to have much luck."

"Just let me try."

"I'm going to."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

As soon as the ferret was dressed, they walked out. The latex walls faded into something different, something more metallic, though with strips of the black goo running every few feet on the floor, ceilings, and walls. The rest of the corridor was chromatic, almost frictionless to the touch, forcing him to walk very carefully.

These back tunnels must have been how they moved employees and prisoners without agitating the rest of the prison population, he realized, and he wondered how many had been moved through there without anyone else knowing.

He wondered, too, if there was a way to get there without passing through the stations.

Might be a way to get out of here, if I really had to...

They passed by several different elevators before the ferret picked a door. As soon as Owen saw the stairs, he glanced back at the elevators and hooked a thumb at them, arching an eyebrow curiously.

"That's for the boss and the guards," the ferret said. "If we want to go between levels, we have to use the stairs."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"Yeah, well, it's a security thing. Stops the internal elevators from being clogged at the lunch breaks."

The stairs weren't as bad as the hallways, but the corners and the ceiling were filled with all kinds of little gadgets and trapped things. He could see a dozen different panels without even trying, and he was sure that there were others, better hidden, that he was missing. The corners weren't marked with mounted cameras, but rather some sort of turret, something that aimed down at him and the ferret as they passed by. If there was an exemption to the security protocols, he guessed that the nurse didn't fit into that category.

Up, up, up, they went, past the doors for Tier Four and Tier Five, all the way to the administration level at the top floor. Unlike the other doors, this one didn't open from the stairwell. It had three visible locks from the outside, and there were probably more on the inside. There was an intercom, too, that the ferret tapped the button for.

"Hey, Warden?"

"Yes?"

"This is James. The new inmate wants to complain."

"This is that raccoon, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. He can come in, and you can go back to your post."

There was a beep from the door, no less than a dozen clicks from the frame, followed by a hiss as the seal was broken. Owen arched an eyebrow at that level of security, looking at the ferret -

"See ya."

And watched as the nurse went back down the stairs. He watched them go, and then looked back at the heavy metal door. Now that he was here, he was starting to question his decision. After all, with the way that Victor had responded and how the ferret had suggested this wasn't a good idea, maybe it would be worth listening to them. One had been here longer than him, while the other actually worked here.

But...

No, no, I have to get out of here. They're trying to convince me that this is all my fault when it's not. I need to get out.

He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped inside. The light was dim, but the walls were clear of all latex. However, that didn't mean that he was safe. The desk at the far end of the room was a heavy, steel thing, and he imagined that it had all sorts of controlling security measures built into it.

The rest of the room was taken up with monitors, with a big-screen one taking up space every few feet on the walls. They all seemed to show different parts of the prison, with the different walls each indicating a different Tier, with the ceiling being Tier Five and the one with the door that Owen had just stepped through being Tier One.

Sitting at the desk was a fox, and a white-furred fox at that. He wore a suit of brown, rather than black, and he was the first person that was dressed normally in the entire prison as far as Owen had seen. He looked up from his desk at the raccoon's approach, arching an eyebrow.

"So, you're Owen."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's me."

"And you think that you're being treated unfairly."

"Yeah, fuck yeah, I do."

"Alright. Tell me how, criminal."

"I...Well, first off, I'm not a criminal. A few years ago, what I did would have been paid off with a fine. Prison time wouldn't even be a thing."

"And a century ago, people killing reptilian species would have been saying the same thing when it became Murder rather than Defacement of Property." The fox chuckled. "Next?"

"Wha - that's not even what happened here! I just peeped on someone!"

"And you jerked off on their window, according to their file."

"She's a stripper!"

"And was off the clock," the fox said, folding his hands across his lap. "You broke the law, and the law now says that what you do requires prison time. And you're lucky enough to be in a prison that will treat you decently. So, what's the problem?"

"I - you can't be serious! You think this is right?"

"Now, see, that's a different issue," the fox said, chuckling to himself. "You see, my personal beliefs on what is and isn't right in the outside world doesn't matter behind these walls. Here, I'm the Warden, and as long as I'm not actually hurting anyone, or making their lives worse, then there's nothing wrong with me having some fun here and there. The whole facility has been built with the idea of pleasurable rehabilitation in mind, and that is something that the whole country is behind, at the moment.

"The fact that you aren't getting the picture isn't my problem. The fact that you are trying to get out of your punishment, however, is."

Owen stared at the fox, completely flabbergasted. He'd hoped that maybe, just maybe, he could get some sympathy here. But no, it was the same as anywhere else in the prison.

"Do you have any other arguments?"

"I - the hypnosis. That's wrong. That has to be wrong."

"And why should it be?"

"Because you're fucking with my head!"

"In the name of rehab."

"It's still wrong! I'm not - you can't just make me be a slut for rehab!"

The fox chuckled again, shaking his head, and Owen felt the urge to just leap across the desk and throttle the fox where he sat. The whole situation was getting out of hand, and he knew that it would likely get him a trip to Tier Four, or even Tier Five. Yet, at that moment, he didn't care. This wasn't fair, and he wasn't be treated right. F

He took a step forward, and the Warden tapped a button under the desk. Suddenly, the floor buzzed, and Owen felt a tingle under his bare feet.

"I wouldn't take another step," the fox said. "The floor's mostly electrified right now."

"How...you..."

"This whole place is a trap for wayward prisoners, Owen. That's part of the pleasure of being the Warden. Now, let me make something clear for you."

As Owen stood there, barefoot, naked, showing off far more than he'd like, the fox stood up and adjusted his tie. The white-furred male walked around his desk, moving to stand in front of it instead.

"You are here because you broke a law. We don't have to agree with the laws, but we do have to follow them. And because you broke the law, you're here. Now, you could be here for a good few years, depending on how slowly you give up the quota that you need to be released, or you could be here for a few months if you just admit what you did wrong. The hypnosis is there to help you figure out what you need to do, not there to turn you into a little slut, though it is a happy byproduct for the various jobs that you could have when you leave."

"I'm not -"

"Ah. I wasn't finished."

Holding up one hand, the fox stepped forward, and Owen realized that the Warden must have been wearing rubber-soled boots to avoid getting shocked. The vulpine manager of the prison stopped right in front of him, reaching out and gently patting the raccoon's balls. They were heavy and swollen, still, and the touches were quick to get his cock rising, throbbing, pulsing between his legs. He gritted his teeth even as the shorter Warden patted him on the balls again.

"You see, there's plenty that we could be doing here. There are plenty of punishments that can be rolled out. We could, for example, put you in a high-intensity hypnosis room, teaching you how to be nothing but a braindead whore. We could be putting you in tight bondage, renting out your ass to high-paying senators that don't want to be caught in a scandal. We could be cutting off your balls, turning you into a nutless fuck, and then convince you with that hypnotic technology that it had all happened somewhere else, far, far from here.

"We could do any of that, but we're not. Because we are bound by some rules. And much as I love to have fun with you inmates, that doesn't mean that I'm going to go over that line."

Claws were suddenly bared, not quite digging into his balls, but definitely poking them. The raccoon gasped as he felt them dragging along the sides of his sac, pulling down, teasing, marking them through the fur.

"But if you push me, I will make sure that you go to the upper tiers, where you can learn how it feels to be treated like the prisoner that you are so determined to become. I will not hold back from every punishment that you earn, and I will make sure that you learn your lesson. Do you understand?"

"..."

"I said, do you understand, prisoner?"

"I understand," he hissed.

"Good."

The claws pulled back, and he was able to breathe a little bit more comfortably. The sensation of those pricking things had been far and away more terrifying than he expected, and he honestly wasn't sure how sane the arctic fox was. The Warden walked back to his desk, and the buzzing floor turned off.

"Now, you'll be taken back to your Tier shortly, but before we do that, let me make something clear to you. You think that you're being treated unfairly because you're being made to respect something that you previously didn't."

Owen refused to answer that. He wasn't going to get any sympathy from this man, so why bother trying to explain himself? With everything else going wrong, why bother trying to get this jerk on his side?

As the raccoon sulked, the fox reached into one of the drawers of his desk, obviously rooting around for something. He was muttering to himself, talking under his breath, shaking his head.

Owen dismissed all of it. The system was stacked against him, and he wasn't even going to get a call out to his lawyer, he was sure. He was just going to be stuck here until they made him agree with them. The law was bullshit. Nothing about this was fair, and he was going to make sure that they had to work to -

PEW!

The sound of a laser blast going off preceded a sudden wave of euphoria. The raccoon gasped, his eyes going wide, only for them to close to half-open again. A smile slowly pulled at the edges of his muzzle as he was dragged into a happy trance, and his cock throbbed purely on its own. There wasn't anything being done to it, but that didn't stop him from feeling just happy, horny, and...

And eager, obedient. Something that he hadn't felt since he'd come into the prison, he had to admit.

The fox lowered the ray gun, humming to himself again. The vulpine sat down on the edge of the desk, looking down at him, and Owen looked back with a smile on his face and a happy little hum in the back of his head. He was...he wasn't sure why he had been so upset, but he felt good now. Good and relaxed. Good and happy. Just...good.

"Alright. Now that you understand where you belong, come here."

The fox's voice echoed in his head, hard to understand, but impossible to ignore. The command eventually settled in the back of his mind, and he was able to understand what he needed to do. The raccoon stepped across the floor, bare feet tapping against the metal tiles.

"Kneel."

Again, there was that slight delay, but soon, he was on his knees. The raccoon stared upwards, his eyes feeling so...sensitive, but in a good way, like he was seeing everything. His senses felt as if they had been turned up to an eleven, and he rolled his head one way and then the other, almost giggling at the feeling of his own fur.

As the fox took off his boots, kicking them off to the side, Owen looked down. All that annoyance, all that surety about how the computer was wrong, was pushed away, replaced with a different feeling.

Big things deserve your respect.

And the fox, for all that he was shorter than the raccoon, had a big pair of feet.

"You know what you need to do."

The fox's words drifted over him, and the raccoon, free of shame, did know what he needed to do. He leaned forward, gently pressing his nose against the undersides of those large feet, feeling the pink flesh along the underside grinding against his face. It was damp, soft, a little bit sweaty from being in a boot, but not in a bad way. It was surprisingly pleasant, and the raccoon's cock throbbed all the harder.

Big things deserve your respect.

It wasn't so bad this time, he felt. There was something good about it, something intense, something that made him want to slip down into that subby, happy, horny space that he had almost discovered in the milking machine. It was there for him now, inviting and wonderful, and he moaned as he stuck out his tongue.

Lick, lap, lick, lap, the soft taste of sweat and foot feeding his arousal, making him enjoy what he was getting that much more. He needed more. He needed...

He needed this.

He moaned as he dragged his head from side to side, submitting to the large feet, the trance he was in harder to fight than the last one. It pushed his brain down, allowing his fetishes to rise, making him do what he was told and enjoy it.

Big things deserve your respect.

Yes, they did. He moaned, both of those feet covering his face. They pushed him down, holding him in that place, reminding him how good it felt to be under those musky soles. His own toes curled, his pre-cum started to flow, and he shivered as he let those feet push him further and further towards the floor.

Eventually, he laid on his back, his muzzle caught between the arches of the fox's feet. He moaned, sniffing, gritting his teeth at the intensity. He felt...something. An ooze, a shifting slime that ran up along his arms and down his legs, along his neck and over his chest. The latex, he realized, the collar and shackles and everything else slowly spreading. His legs were pulled together, tightly encased in a latex tube, and his arms were pulled to his sides. He was gradually covered more and more, his fur pushed flat, his toes bound together, his cock pulled up against his belly.

Soon, his entire body was encased, leaving only his face free. He stared up at those soles still, watching them even as his face was captured in the black latex. He felt it seal his mouth, then his muzzle almost entirely, leaving only his nose exposed. He could still smell the soft scent coming off of those soles as the black ooze crept up the sides of his head. It crept into his ears until they were sealed, then over his eyes.

And as his face was completely covered, the spirals continued, filling his mind with new messages, new reminders, new pushes to admit what he had done .

Owen opened his eyes again much later, and when he did, he found himself staring straight at the ceiling high above him. For a moment or two, he swore he could still see the Warden's soles in front of him, and he started to stick his tongue out -

"Welcome back."

"Gah!"

He sat up in a hurry, gasping in shock at the sudden reminder that he wasn't alone. The raccoon panted hard as he turned to look back at Victor. The black-furred jackal chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well, you were out of it."

"...I don't know what happened."

"I'm guessing you made it up to the Warden?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, he'll have sent you back all zonked. Explains why you turned up in a black bubble."

He looked down at the shackles on his ankles and the marks on his wrists. They had expanded and covered him, he remembered that much. Was that something that any of the guards could make happen? Or was that just the Warden?

Either way, it meant that he was a great deal more helpless than he thought, and he wasn't sure that he liked that...or at least, that he wasn't turned on by it.

Looking down at his dick, he could see that it was already up and throbbing again, eager for attention. Shaking his head, he held out a hand, and Victor helped him up.

"What time is it?"

"Who can tell in here?"

"Okay, do people sleep?"

"Yep."

"Are they?"

"Most of them; I thought you'd like someone to wait up and see if you were okay."

He was thankful for that, though he was rather surprised, considering what had happened earlier. The jackal had been quite happy to make him 'pay' for information with sex, and that had been rather...embarrassing, to say the least. The fact that Victor knew that he had a foot fetish didn't make it better, either.

He rubbed the back of his head as he fell into step behind the jackal, following him to the little huts that dotted the middle of the Tier Three area. Following Victor into one, he realized that he was about to lay down beside the naked jackal, and hesitated as the other male got into bed.

"What? What's the matter?"

"I...well..."

"Oh, get in. You're going to need to sleep anyway."

"..."

"It's fine. Whatever happens here, you'll probably end up forgetting eventually."

That was probably more true than the jackal meant, he thought as he slipped into bed. Still, he fell asleep quickly, and he was grateful for that.

The End

Summary: Owen decides to complain to the management, and ends up getting told off in a big way.

Tags: M/M, jackal, raccoon, fox, ferret, nudity, exhibitionism, latex, tentacles, hypnosis, mind control, encasement, foot fetish, sweat, musk, worship, prison, series, pre-cum, hard-on, erection,