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It was a dark and uncosy evening. The rain splattered harshly against the mansion's windows, and the gaslamps supplying light provided a gloomy atmosphere. The corridors were empty at this time of the evening. The staff hat retreated to the servants quarters, and the rain suppressed all the other sounds one could expect from such an old building. The cries were very present and clearly audible, however. "Yes!", a loud female voice shouted in pain and agonized lust. "Yes! Push it deeper, you brutish breeding stock!" Loud gasps, moans, and cries of despair echoed in the dark corridor. A smacking, then a bellow as if an animal was in deep distress. "Faster!", the female voice commanded unsympathetically. "Harder! Or I'll cut your sack open and rip your balls out! You're not here to belay a stupid heifer and produce another bastard calf for the stables!" The huffing and groaning intended, and the female's occasional moans told the curious listener that she was covered good and proper despite her outraged shouts. "That's it!", she cried. "Keep it that deep! Push it against my womb! Message my uterus! Make it soft; keep me cumming!"

The bull did his best; he really did. He was huge and his thick, strong muscles glistened with sweat and scented oils. He was a proper breeding bull. Generations upon generations of livestock had been selected to produce huge, greedy heifers with big udders and an insistence to be impregnated again only hours after giving birth and even bigger bulls with massive testicles, a brutal sex drive and thick, fertile sperm ready to fulfil the female's needs. This was an exquisitely fine specimen of his lineage. Otherwise, the mistress of the mansion would not have let him into her chambers. His huge sack dangled between the muscular legs. It was as long as her elbow and painfully heavy. The two elongated orbs visibly stretched the thin tissue. Around the sack's neck, a golden Ring forced his sperm through a narrow squeeze which made his orgasms agonizingly intense.

The bull's huge cock was long, thin, and pointed, well-suited to pierce a cows womb and squirt his fertile seed directly into her fallopian tubes. His short tail was flared above an extraordinarily well-used hole, sore and reddish but still winking. The breeder did not feel other males' cocks often, though. One of his intruders laid on the neat, galvanized metal table next to the bed. It was a strange device, made from brass and other materials but with a thick, black, gummy cord at one end leading to a strange box with a handle. The brass piece was twice as thick as his cock, but only half the length. Every morning, one of the cheeky goat grooms brought him to a stand, made him bend over and pushed one of those well-lubricated brass dildos into his arse. He thrust a bit to make the bull moan, and his cock slid out of its sheath, then feed it into a sucking rubber tube before starting the machines. In the stables, they had steam engines, of course. No one wanted to peddle all day long to fed electricity to the device. The bull, used to the procedure since calfhood, knew what to expect. It started with a tingling feeling building up in his rear but soon also strangely stimulating his cock. Then the first shock came. As if someone coached his semen out of his testicles, the bull was forced to squirt his first load of the day into the tube. Orgasm after orgasm would hit him, drawing all his semen from his enlarged, overproductive testicles for hours. Without a break, the bull produced several litres of cum every day, ready to be sold to apothecaries and the ever-growing industry all over the country and nowadays even abroad.

In the evenings, he had to serve the heifers when necessary or could call it a day early, if he was lucky. From time to time, though, the mistress of the house, the Baronesse, let him come to her chambers. He dreaded those nights. She was vigorous, greedy and nearly impossible to satisfy. At least, to be satisfied by any other male but her husband and by any other cock but his huge meat spear. However, they only copulated when she was ready to be impregnated again. Therefore, she had various males from around the estate who had to sate her hunger through her trimesters. The bull was often one of the last, as he was today. She used him to satisfy her right before she went into labour. "Softening up the womb", she called it. He had to pound her hard and brutally, thrusting his huge rod against her womb until the tip was numb and swollen. Because he was used to cumming all day long, and for that forced by internal stimulation, he had quite the stamina and lasted much longer than any other of her breeding toys. But due to her impatience, this was not always an advantage.

The whip hit his already red buttocks hard. It made a loud, sharp sound. "Use that huge rod of yours to ravage my birth canal!" the heavily pregnant she-wolf demanded. The bull huffed and renewed his efforts. He thrust into her like a battering ram. If he had not known any better, he had expected to impaler her entirely on his sharp, long cock, preying open her entrance and pushing into her cub chamber. But this was the fourth time he bred her just before she went into labour, and there was no need to worry.

"Massage his balls!", she commanded while the bull pressed himself into her as deeply as possible. He dreaded every order from her, although he knew them all by now. He tried to prepare himself for what was to come. But it would never be easy. A small, sleek bunny stood up from her comfortable seat next to the bed. Up until now, she had watched her mistress getting pounded by the massive breeder with polite interest and two fingers in her dripping wet minge. Waiting upon her mistress' needs, she sprang up and went behind the bull, who was more than twice as big as she was in every direction. Upright, her nose was on one level with his swollen pucker. She savoured the sight for a moment, but not too long. She knew very well that the Baroness was not the understanding type in these moments. The bunny grabbed the bulls huge testicles in both tiny paws. She did not take her task lightly. The bull bellowed in pain, agony, and desire.

"He is so full, mistress!", she cried out. "I am pretty sure he has not bred a heifer in two weeks!" She rubbed the orbs against each other and tugged them deeper into the decisively stretched pouch.

The she-wolf moaned. "You have not?!" she asked imperiously. "No, Mylady!", the bull answered out of breath. "None is in season at the moment." He gasped for air when the bunny gave his testicles a light but distinctive slap. "How many calves have you produced this year?" the she-wolf asked and watched his agonized face. The bull gasped for air, but the maid grasped the base of his shaft with one hand and tugged the sheath back forcefully. "29!", he cried out, not daring to stop his thrusts. "29, Mylady!" "And when do you mount them?" The bunny pressed his orbs again. "Right after they have given birth and demand to be mounted", he gasped, "as per standing orders!" The she-wolf grunted, satisfied and let the bull find his rhythm again. He was a good breeder, and she enjoyed having him between her legs.

She freed her swollen breasts and ordered: "Fuck me harder! Fuck me into labour and suck my aching tits!" It was always a huge turn-on to hear his well-bred and otherwise coldly polite mistress talk like that. One could say she talked like a common whore, but that was far away from the truth. Even when she used the exact words, moaned and begged to be taken in any position, she would never sound like one of the cheap minks one could buy at the alehouse in town for a couple of minutes and who tried to get one off by their moans and words so as get to the next customer quickly.

The bull starred at the firm, laden breasts, bent over and took one in his huge muzzle. He suckled like a greedy calf while fucking into her as if he wanted to force one into her belly. She moaned greedily, her sleek, dark legs raised in the air and spread wide to accommodate the colossal beast. She grabbed the longer hair on his head and pressed him harder against her. "Yes!" she screamed. "Fuck me! Suck me! Cum inside me and try to get your useless semen into my belly!" The bull moaned into her breast, sucking harder and thrusting into her as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did. There were rumours ...

He could her hear gasped when suddenly, the bunny maid brought her tongue to her mistress' spade and sucked and licked her entrance and his shaft with skill and passion. She was close, he could tell. He was, too. He had been for over half an hour and prayed for relief. Suddenly, the Baronness cried out and started to convulse heavily around his penis. He held her firmly and tried his best to stimulate her further through her orgasm. Still, just as she began to calm down a bit, the bunny maid rammed the brass rod into his ass, thrusting it brutally against his prostate and forcing him to come without any electricity at all. The bull let go of the lactating tit and bellowed loudly when the sperm was forced through his mangled cords and oversensitive penis. The strong jet of semen pressed against the tightly shut cervix, immediately filled the stretched channel, and ran over the red calfmaker. The bunny thrust mercilessly against his prostate, forcing him to endure the painful yet effective ejaculation. The she-wolf experienced another climax when she felt, heard and even smelled the frantic breeding distress the bull was in. He was meant to spurt his seed into females. He was made to spurt his seed into females. And that was precisely what he did now. She curled her legs and started to convulse again. "More!", she gasped. "Make him cum more! Destroy his testicles! Let him cum to death!" Her tongue lolled out of her exquisite muscle, her eyes turned up in their sockets, and her pregnant belly rose from all the excitement, lust and greed. Eventually, she sank back into the folds of the expensive bed, still twitching here and there.

The bull could not stop cumming even though the bunny maid had refrained from teasing him any further. He let go of his mistress and just stood there, upright, his testicles contracting to force out all his semen as nature intended. Although it was wasted on the pregnant she-wolf, his instincts told him to breed. Eventually, the stream of semen ceased, and he sank to the ground unconsciously. Gops and gops of bull sperm gushed from the well-bred Baroness' gaping hole as she toughed herself carefully aggressive to coax out the last spams of her orgasm.

"My my!" a deep, rumbling voice came from the door. "Who would have thought that you are so unsympathetic with our breeding stock?" The Baron entered the room with a wolfish smile. His wife looked up, still flustered and satisfied for the moment. She stroked her huge belly. "The pups are excited", she poured. "They want to participate. Hmmm", she added. "They soon will." "Did he not manage to open you yet?" the Baron asked and stopped in front of the bed. "It might take a bit until it sinks in", she answered lustily. "Enough time for my maid to serve you." The bunny maid looked up innocently and curtsied demurely. "I am ripe and ready, Mylord", she said. "Please, breed me again."