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Hearth in Herds

By Laz Briar

It's the skyline you never got used to.

New Columbia was all about simulating grandiose environments and cityscapes for the affluent. Their parks were marvelous, cuisine and restaurants some of the best in the system, and their organic yield second to none. Take a look off Pricer's Tower in the middle of New Columbia and you'd swear you were back on Earth Prime. Green fields and healthy trees – even bioengineered fauna for that really “authentic." Even city hall hosted meetings about potentially introducing pigeons to simulate an authentic city, but it didn't get too far in the general voting.

Once you got out of New Columbia though, down the main tracks and past the miles of solar farms, you saw it. The planet. The real planet, mind. Coded E-301 or E-308, Jamie never remembered. What he did, though, was how the horizon shifted from “simulation" to reality, how all the green gave way to a limitless, barren landscape of harsh, reddish rock and colorless sand. It was astonishing, honestly, why so much interest was taken to it. Might've been the “sapphire storms," when bluish bits of crystalline rock kicked up and patterned the hills to given an alluring, sparkling blue look. Or maybe the skyline. Best starry sky this side of the nebula – so Planets rated, anyway.

But it wasn't a farm planet, despite the insistence of the uppers. It was geoengineered to be (and what a cocking mess that was, by the way; rending usable farm soil from lifeless rock was agonizing), but not inhabitable by its makeup. Jamie reminded himself of it every time he left New Columbia, that he was in an alien place. He only survived because of his home away from home.

Well, “survive" was a little dramatic, wasn't it? It certainly wasn't a raw deal, his estate. Passed down through a long line of hand-to-soil dairy farmers. In fact, Jamie could trace his business origins back to prime. These days though it was a little less manual labor and more automation and managing where the money went.

He was a dairy farmer. Well, rather, an accountant for a dairy farm. His family had done it for generations, eventually setting up shop near New Columbia. They did well, very well, since the demand for all organic milk was high near the city. That was a quirk about the upper class here – they loved the “idea" of home-grown stuff and simpler things. Farm-raised milk you can get at your local organic shop? It sold like gangbusters. It was odd. It reminded Jamie of the “scene kids" he sometimes encountered growing up, the ones with their wealthy familial backgrounds exposing themselves to the “hard life" for a sense of image, desiring all the risk without actually taking any risk. At least, the ones here on New Columbia.

That was the deal. Sell to those looking for an escape of inter-system politics and hardship. It did well though, that was for sure. He never really wanted for much and even with his accountant responsibilities, there were enough automated processes in place to manage redundant workloads. Really it was a matter of keeping an eye on where the numbers went, how often, and how much. Peaceful stuff. The end result was a very nice bottom line.

Though, Jamie had to admit it often left him wanting. The system was a big place, and he'd heard about some of the major core planets once you jumped from the solar gates to the next. In the weirdest of ways, the “stellar neighborhood" his planet inhabited was like a getaway system, the “country" in space. You came out here for the exotic sights if you were rich, and if you ever got bored? Eh, set up shop somewhere else. Options were limitless. Out here, you didn't have to worry about interplanatery tariff drama or asteroid skirmishes conducted by pirates and terrorists.

He pulled up to home, pushing the thoughts aside. Where he lived wasn't too far from New Columbia, roughly ten minutes as the bird crowed. Once you made it to Strata Farm and Dairy, it was like the planet's terrain never existed. The farm was as it sounded: a farm. Sprawling hills and hybrid grass fields of lush green covered the terrain with bioengineered apple trees dancing in the distance. One massive manor house oversaw the extensive property, along with all the various machines used for landscaping, cutting, and milking. Not all at once, of course.

It was surprisingly spacious given its proximity to the city. Traffic didn't come down the way unless it was for picking up or dropping supplies. Really, you'd forget you were on a (technically) alien planet by looking out the window on a morning, synthetic bird chirps and all. That was vastly preferable to the city. Getaway it might've been, it was still a nexus of white collar business, the kind Jamie wasn't too interested in. As with a lot of things concerning supply and demand, rumor was getting the resources for specific things got you into some unpleasant business – literally. Here? At the farm? All grown, all managed, all from the girls.

Ah yes, the girls. The real kicker to all of it.

See, the thing about the dairy farm was that it was indeed all natural, and the girls were the primary benefactors. In other words, the suppliers. They were Hybrids, a complex species of gene-specific anthropoid individuals from a primary animal background. In this case (and to the surprise of no one), the girls were bovine.

Now, not all Hybrids were just farm chimera or similar. There were hundreds of species variants, maybe thousands. Gene therapy could arguably design whatever a client was looking for, for whatever reason. Of course, the interpolitics of that were complicated as one might imagine. Ethical regulations, the morality of breeding and designing a conscious race to essentially work for their human designers, how they were used. Got messy, real messy.

Jamie didn't like to dwell on it too much. Hybrid origins ranged from intriguing to downright unpleasant. Their origins, from what he understood, were post-disaster on Earth Prime, when the homeworld was uninhabitable thanks to renegade autonomous machines. Guess the human collective animals were a little less chaotic.

At any rate, a collective of girls worked for his family, a set of healthy ladies contracted to provide all natural, purified Hybrid milk to the city of New Columbia. In return they were paid a proper salary and given a comfortable place to live and eat. They seemed happy, or at least Jamie certainly hoped so. He wasn't much a philosopher but he did often wonder if their joy was a result of genuine affection for their home or some strain of subservient breeding. Regardless, they smiled and laughed, and he aimed to make sure their life was the best it could be.

There were ten in total, not counting the delivery vixen, all on their own rotating shifts. Some were younger than others but they all maintained the same bovine origins. Despite their genetic background, they were quite pretty too. Engineering had gone to great lengths to make sure every Hybrid had an appearance alluring to the eye, and none of them were lacking.

He spied a few of their silhouettes as he drove back through the farm's automated entrance. The gate read the security signal from his vehicle and pinged him in, sliding open in a smooth, mechanical motion. To his left and right were vast green fields and a few buildings – some for storage and others for the various types of farm equipment.

Ahead, however, was the manor estate, one built by Jamie's ancestors a few cycles ago, back when the colonies were just getting geoformed. It wasn't exactly like the vineyards on prime but it had some legacy. That meant the architecture was a mix between Victorian, classic, modern, and whatever other buzzwords were used to sell on the real estate. It was nice, Jamie put it like that.

After parking in the lot, Jamie thumbed off the ignition to finish up the day's work. While it was true a lot of the software used could manage funds on their own, he was still personally responsible for hand-delivering reports and officially signing off on the tax claims before they were uploaded to the SpaceNet. Now, all that was left was to tally the day's milk.

This was the more “interesting" part of the job, and he never quite got used to it. Jamie didn't spy any of the girls so he figured they were either lounging, playing or finishing delivery. And he was right.

He made his way behind the estate where two other buildings resided – probably the most complex and strange of all of them. One was for the milk processing, and the other storage. The details of all of it were interesting, which was a word for it. It was only called “Production," and like the name suggested, it's where the girls went to produce. It housed a membrane of complex machinery designed to stimulate, extract, and process the fluid to make it safe for human consumption.

It was a little odd to Jamie. Only because it was quite humane, but also, the reason for its existence was perplexing? Bovine on Prime were used for human consumption. The girls were also utilized in a way, just in a more ethical way. Were they autonomous, domestic servants? Again, questions that made him dizzy, sometimes. He was just glad the processing machines weren't uncomfortable. Hell, one could argue you were safer with those things than a surgeon, because the devices were outfitted with a series of life support systems in the event of emergency.

The other building was containment and preservation. After processing, milk was stored to be prepped for shipment. Like its sister structure, it was loaded with an army of analytical tools and refinement techniques. Everything from targeting harmful strains of gut bacteria to preserving enzymes in the milk was part of its design.

As he continued, he saw the hatch door at Production slide open. Out from it a couple girls emerged. Now here's where the rest of it was. . . different.

Anthropoid cow girls had what you expected: teats. Not udders, but plump, heavy chests capable of producing the ever-so-precious milk New Columbia desired. Being Hybrids, they weren't so much the prudent types, either. The girls appearing were curvy in frame and fat of chest, and their mounds wobbled, smacked around by gravity as they chatted with the other. Exposed? Of course. They had a unique, almost cultural pride in their tits and it was just. . .

Well, Jamie never fully got used to it. He was a guy, a simple human of hot-blood and clay, and when you spied a couple gals as shapely as them strutting so freely, he had to steel himself.

At once, one of the girls glanced towards Jamie, and the other did too. One was Sally, the other Betsy, or “Bess." From a distance, he could see Bess' eyes light up as she offered an enthused wave. Sally only blinked, went a little stiff, and tossed one, though with far less gusto.

“Girls!" Jamie called over. “Just finish?"

Bess pranced forward while Sally was slower to arrive. “Well, fancy Jayjay. Back from the city, eh?"

Again, as she did her jiggly, heaving bust crashed and clapped together. It took a lot not to ogle her teasing nips. She was in pants but honestly, did that help?

“Jamie," said a cooler voice, Sally at Bess' side. “That was fast."

Jamie shrugged. “Was it? Honestly felt like an eternity. Maybe I get homesick too easy."

Bess simpered and giggled, maybe too much for what wasn't a joke. Sally huffed, rolling eyes.

“Well, nice to have you back. Uh. . ." the bovine glanced to the side. The sun caught her beige, blonde-coat body, hand going to hip.

“Bess, I'm checking the twins. Waaaay too quiet."

The older cow followed Sally's gaze, nodding. “Ah, right. Something should've been broken by now."

Sally smiled again, turning and sashaying away. “Later."

Jamie watched her go, clearing his throat. Damn. “Still pissed at me, I guess."

Bess looked back to the young man. Or rather, looked down. She was a touch taller than he and bore the legacy white-and-black splotchy pattern most bovid were known for. Really, she was a poster girl for cow Hybrids. Even had the cute little blue bandana around her neck.

“Oh, she'll be okay," comforted Bess. “She took it pretty hard, but I'm not sure what she expected. You've got responsibilities."

“I've never even thought about it," said Jamie. “Kids? God, I can't even think about dating."

He shook his head, eager to shift subjects. “Well, anyway. Maybe I can apologize. How was the session, Bess?"

It struck him as a touch unusual to ask about this kind of thing, much like you'd ask Paul down in Analytics about ransomware, or something. But, the Hybrids didn't mind and could be a little graphic sometimes, too.

Bess smirked. “Well, not to brag, but a perfect delivery, as usual."

Ah yes. Bess had the highest quality milk result of her sisters. “Damn. You ever gonna' get this record broken, or what?"

She laughed, forcing a wobble through her chest. “Hopeful for that, are we?"

“Not me. Just constantly astonished, is all."

Bess' smirk shifted to a smile. “Astonished? Cute."

Cute, huh? That didn't sneak by Jamie, exactly. Bess was always quite friendly with him. Then again, he figured it was because that was the deal or a byproduct of Hybrid physiology. Weren't they predisposed to liking humans, or something?

“If you say so," he said. “Didn't doubt your abilities, though. How about the rest?"

Bess put a hand to hip. “Hmm, finished their shifts earlier, I think. Except the twins. Late, as usual."

Bess said it with feigned strictness. There weren't any exact shifts. As long as the girls hit their quotas there was never a problem, and there generally wasn't aside from the occasional sickness.

“Sally's gonna' kill em," said Jamie, looking towards the now distant bovine.

“If she didn't after the kitchen incident, nothing will set her off," offered Bess. The patterned cow looked to Jamie, giving him a once over.

“By the way, you're back earlier than usual."

Jamie turned. “I am? Huh. I've never noticed." It was the afternoon, didn't seem off to him.

Bess approached and tapped his forehead, her bare front damn close. Jamie did his best not to stare. Honestly, it was like they shoved their tits in his face on purpose.

“I do," said Bess. “My business, after all. Figured you'd stick in the city a while longer."

He managed a chuckle. “Oh? And why's that?"

Jamie wasn't sure but it looked like Bess' cheeks blushed. Just a little. Maybe he was imagining it.

“Well, isn't the dating game supposed to be better out there? Not like you have choices around here or anything, h-hah."

Jamie almost did a double take. “Dating game? You're serious?"

“Am I never?"

Jamie grimace and rubbed his neck. “Oh god, Bess. Come on now. It's like a tank of piranhas and sharks out there. Not for me, not this scene."

Bess' ears wiggled. “Come on, you're really not looking for a girl? Gotta' keep that lineage strong, riiiight?"

Jamie shuddered. “You sound like dad."

“Freud would have a field day."

Jamie wasn't sure where this line of query emerged from. “Well. . . regardless, look. Plenty of girls in my life already. No need to get complicated, right?"

Hell, even if Jamie wanted to go about it, he wasn't sure where to begin. The “dating game" for his status was a different world entirely. It was hard to tell who was interested and who was in it for appearance. Marrying into wealth and familial loyalty was still a very common thing out here. Shit, and honestly, he hadn't the foggiest how to go about the “romantic dance." His status, strangely, put in a lot of barriers. He'd been with girls but for different reasons, not romantic ones.

“Savin' yourself for us, eh?" Bess joked. She snickered and sneered, nudging his arm.

Before Jamie responded, his attention was caught by the distant rumble of a vehicle. Down the trail he saw a truck making its way towards the farm. Oh. Shipment and delivery.

“Trixx here already?" he said. Bess, in the meantime, huffed, none too pleased to have the subject changed.

“Looks like it," she said, tone more flat. “Well, nice catching up Jamie. I better make sure Sally isn't murdering the twins."

Bess smiled but she waltzed off, rather abrupt. Huh. Well, he'd talk later. Shipments were the other part of his job he had to sign off and handle. Red tape did not like it when anyone other than the family named signed off for shipping. Besides, it made him feel like he was doing something helpful aside from looking at interchanging numbers.

The truck pulled up soon after, a cargo machine with ample space to carry the farm's product. It rumbled forward, finding a spot to park, kicking up a flurry of dirt and grass as it did. Jamie was relieved. He liked talking with the girls, but their tendency to go “bare breast" made things. . . interesting. Trixx, however, was a little more formal.

And, right as he thought that, he could see her midriff.

The shapely vixen popped out of the truck's side, balancing on the sill before gracefully landing on the ground. She was agile, but it made sense with her vulpine Hybrid background. Her tail tossed and her reddish-orange fur caught the sunlight, accenting her white tummy. He saw this because she'd pulled her uniform top into a top-knot. Something told Jamie that wasn't Xpress company standard.

She waved when she saw him, taking off her hat.

“Trixx" was an interesting one. Of the Hybrids Jamie knew, she had the most autonomy. Originally, her name wasn't even Trixx – the serial ID was T31XX but given her occupation and personable skills, he found it more appropriate. Just as well, this girl had goals for herself, and Jamie respected that.

The vixen wasted no time approaching. And, stars above, her “modification" to attire forced gentle bounces through her front, much like the other girls. What the hell was going on today? Everyone decide to be extra “tossy?"

“Trixx," Jamie welcomed. The fox waltzed forward with an electric signer in one hand, smiling.

“Sup Jam," she purred. “Spied you down the way. Hope I wasn't interrupting."

There was notable amusement in her voice. Jamie tilted his head. “Wha? Oh, no, no, not at all. I was just chatting with Bess, you know."

“As a matter of fact, I don't," said Trixx, raising the device and loosening an e-pen from her ear. “Can only imagine the sick shit you talk about with the ladies."

Jamie huffed. “Oh yeah, fruit and milk, real messed up."

Now Trixx grinned. “Fruit and milk, huh?"

Jamie shrugged, looking around him. “Anything else? Trees! We've got those. I talk about trees with them. It's some foul stuff, I tell you."

“Clearly."

She shoved the epad into Jamie. “Sign that, wise guy."

Jamie chuckled and did as instructed. “You got here quick," he commented, signing for the pickup.

“That is my job," she shot back. “Xpress, Jam, not slow-as-shit."

“Suppose it felt faster than usual," continued Jamie, finishing the sign off before handing the device back to Trixx.

“Why? Got a date, finally? You're um. A bit more exposed today."

The vixen sneered. “Oh you noticed, did ya? Well glad to see your eyes are workin'. Come on, need a closer look? Wanna shove your hand in there?" said Trixx, prodding up her front.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Relax! God, tits everywhere."

“You are literally the one guy who complains about being surrounded by tits, Jamie."

He shook his head. “Someone has to be a professional around here."

“No seriously," said Trixx, tail swishing, slipping the epen back to her ear. “It's like a superpower. Unless, what, you prefer the other side of the fence?"

“Not so much."

She squinted. “Hmph. If you say so. They're perfectly amazing tits, by the way. And, to answer, I am trying to get a guy's attention, soooo. . ."

“What? Well what happened to saying hello!?"

Trixx's head rolled with laughter. “I have deliveries to make! No time for formalities!"

She nudged him. “And I am saying hello, aren't I?"

Jamie raised his hands. “Look, all I'm saying is, they do it a little different in the city. You know, wine and dine, that kind of thing."

“Pah. Sounds like a real snore."

He offered chuckled. “You vixens, I swear. Well, whoever you're trying to get with, lucky guy. Or girl, whatever."

Trixx stared, squinted, then rolled her eyes and laughed, adjusting her hat. Jamie tilted his head.

“What?"

“Nothin', Jam. Now, on to business."

Business entailed getting the cargo ready for loading and offloading. Generally Trixx took in the milk that was ready for sale while dropping off necessary supplies for production. Sometimes it was filters, other times canisters, but normally whatever the farm needed. Around this time, Jamie liked to feel useful, but he found he just got in the way. Trixx had a loader she used, a machine for getting heavy things in and out without much issue. The rest was physically transporting supplies, and Bess came back to help with that, chatting with Trixx as they worked.

He left them to it. Despite Bess' background as a bovid Hybrid, she was impressively strong. Matched with Trixx's innate vixen focus, they got things done with time to spare. It was one of the reasons he liked topping the fox off with a healthy extra. She did lots of good work and was never late, and god knew her enterprise took a healthy cut of her income because of Hybrid status.

Afterward, Jamie returned to the estate to figure some remaining numbers in his impromptu office. Wasn't a whole lot that he really needed to worry with. Intersystem news broadcasted ongoing raids by asteroid pirates intermixed with growing unrest on Mars prime, but really, these things were literal star systems away, so it had little discernable effect on his business. Kind of a shame, New Columbia could use some excitement, he mused.

It left him with time to think. Maybe too much time. He reflected on the girls again, and not just their uh, assets, although that was nice too. Rather, he contemplated Trixx's intent to “attract a guy," and asking about him. Relationships – more complicated than all the numbers running through his modules. He could never quite pin them down, never felt he had the opportunity for an authentic one.

But what about the girls? Really, he at least had the luxury of trying out the dating scene. Hybrids on the other hand had, well, mixed status depending on where you looked. To no one's surprise, it was often left to the decision of their caretaker. Was it fair? Well, Jamie didn't think so, but that was for congress to figure out.

Still, girls like Sally had needs and wants beyond their job. Sally, especially, wanted kids and no doubt held a little. . . resentment towards him. Or, disappointment. Or both. But she wanted girls and boys of her own, something he wasn't really able to oblige. A family? Jamie had enough problems babysitting numbers.

What could he do for them, really? There was a whole slew of issues concerning human and Hybrid relations. Speculation over whether or not something like it was biologically possible was just one of the numerous concerns, not to mention societal stigma (if you cared about that sort of thing). It was complicated. And Jamie, alas, preferred his life without that. He was lucky with his current lot, and he reckoned to keep it that way.

But it didn't mean he was negligent to the girls' wants and needs, far from it. Really, he had to figure out something for them, or at least Sally. Naturally, the bovid anchored to Jamie because he was the only male presence around – easy to get attached to something like that. But what if she had options? What if she had suitors? In fact, what if all the girls had their pick of litter, so to speak? There were some quality studs out there, from Jamie's recollection, real prime bulls too, some specifically for breeding exceptionally healthy offspring. Even better, from what he knew certain bulls where drilled with patriarchal and fatherly instincts, nurturing, protecting, that sort of thing. Could be an ideal pick for Sally.

Hmm. He thought it over. He was familiar with a more veteran bull, Bruce, who worked not too far from the farm for assistance with field labor. He was pleasant too, maybe him? For now, Jamie set the thought aside. Acquiring additional Hybrid licenses and such was a fair bit of paperwork and it was a big decision. He resolved to check on some of the other girls before he retired from the day's primary tasks.

Lilly, one of the younger ones, was fiddling with her personal garden, a pet project she'd been working on for a few months in an attempt to cultivate hybrid plants. Hah, a Hybrid making hybrids. She greeted him with a pleasant hello, though her position was rather. . . show-y when he discovered her.

Mary and Leena were in one of the living quarters, the latter snoozing for a bit while Mary was diving into another book. Mary was a hell of a reader and would put most to shame with her hunger for literary material. When Jamie asked what it was this time, she remarked it was St. Vesha's Temple on the Moon, a long, long text rife with Hybrid philosophy, religion, and its spiritual connection with humans.

Sam and Lucy? The twins were out by the lake, trying to outdo each other via skipping rocks. Julie was. . . well, where? Introverted, that one, or so Jamie suspected. Tia was also something of an arborist, and where Lilly looked into vegetables, Tia loved flowers. As for Sherry, she helped Bess, being the youngest.

It was important, he found, to keep things personable. All the girls were amiable enough and if anything were amiss, Jamie had to attend to it. That was a key responsibility he knew he had, regardless of his affinity for a laid-back lifestyle.

-*-

Evening? No, well beyond that. Night. The alien sky turned a pale shade of dark, midnight blue, an almost black – but because of its unique atmosphere was not entirely the familiar twilight of Earth Prime. Still, stars tore through the veil like platinum eyes, the moonless horizon awash with silver candles.

Bess huffed. The estate was quiet, just as she preferred to do her. . . well. Not business, exactly. Vent. Vent and manage her frustrations with this place and with Jamie. Not directly, of course. There wasn't any anger in her, exactly. Rather it was a stifling sensation, a smothered want that ached for release, desiring a dream she seemingly could never have, a dam that needed to shatter.

She only wished Jamie would notice her, notice her in a way that mattered. He was so distracted, the silly boy, eyes on the sky, drifting from day to day without any thought about what he wanted to do. He lacked goals, aspirations. The family farm was a responsibility, sure, but did he want for anything? Did he have a future idea for himself in 10 years? 5? 1? Agh.

No matter how she tried to lure and tease he never bit. And there was little else Bess could do. Outright tackling him and demanding for him to, well, sleep with her was out of the question. Never mind the ethical implications, such a thing was on the higher steps of illegal for Hybrids. But ignoring that, god. How many times could she shove her hefty tits into his eyes before he acted? It wasn't like he had to court her, or anything. He could very well take her whenever he wanted, and yet he refused. He was a young buck but had yet to claim his antlers.

So, she had to resort to other things. What came natural, of course. Her bovid instincts were strong, both from her ancestry and Hybrid makeup, and because of this she needed a particular satisfaction, at least for herself.

In the fridge, Bess had taken it upon herself to replace the filtered milk with her own. Or some of it, at least, a few bottles. From her ample teats flowed the savory fluid, her nips dribbling with nectar and dew, the ichor of life one might say. The difference in taste was subtle, a little sweeter than the filtered byproduct. She always hoped Jamie might notice and the flavor coax him “toward" her, but until then she had to be satisfied with this.

It was relieving, of course, as it always was. Whether it was because of her Hybrid background or natural instincts, the result was the same: her weighty front tingled with warm electricity when the teats produced their motherly ichor, filling each glass with ease. She imagined someone was touching her, at least Jamie, kneading and pinching at the sensitive tips. Hard to imagine the boy never did, but again, so oblivious he was.

As Bess filled the last glass with her nectar, a warm urge overcame her. Something hot and wanting, something arriving from the depths of herself, instinct. Desire, the want to breed. Alas, there was no Jamie to oblige her, and not like she could do anything about that.

Bess sighed, parting her legs as she closed the fridge, looking around. Her ears flagged, the only sounds of the estate the distant chirp of Earth-imported fireflies and gentle rustle of planetary winds. Good. Her finger sank to her inner thighs and plunged her digits into the wet folds, simulating a quick, successive penetration. Near instant her fingers glistened with the nectar of herself, sticky yet smooth as she wobbled and rotated her hand to coax pleasure at every part of her snatch. The nub burst with radiating waves of intense, electric physical heat.

Bess buckled, gripping the counter as her cheeks went rosy from the personal attention, soft coos and moans escaping her as she “worked." Another hand went one of her lofty breasts and gently squeezed, massaging the sac with thoughtful rubs and gropes. In her mind, she toyed with the idea of Jamie, imagining that she was mounted or mounting him, that these actions were his own, attentive but exploring. Her flesh cried out for someone, but for now, it was only her.

Overwhelmed with intensity and arousal, Bess found herself reaching peak soon after. Her thighs trembled and body quivered from the orgasm's intensity, liquid bursting from her supple nether lips and running down her thighs in thin rivers. She panted, heart racing, sucking in mighty breaths as the afterglow overcame her, fuzzy and exhausting.

Bess leaned, huffing, before finding a towel to clean. Couldn't let anyone know what she'd been up to. Then again, she half suspected the other girls did something similar, pent up with no avenue of male relief to turn to.

She returned to the barn lodging a while later, certain everyone was asleep. What she didn't know that a pair of eyes were very aware of her return.

-*-

Noon crept over the farm with dreary rays of atmosphere altered sunlight. About this time Jamie had finished keeping tallies on milk production and assisted where needed, save today, he had an announcement.

Jamie had considered the girls might feel bored or lonely or just in need of some kind of change. Even if the estate was like a paradise, it was the same kind of paradise for days on end. To anyone, that had to get old. Overnight, he contemplated a few ways he could change that, do something for the girls. He had considered contract alterations, but fair stipulations for Hybrids were very hard to find and he didn't want to risk their safety.

So, he figured, maybe a few new faces could help?

He called them for a small gathering near the farm's front, greeting each girl as the crowded around. They watched him with curious eyes, and even the twins settled down for just a moment.

“What's this about?" said Mary, curious.

“Finally telling us you found a girl?" Bess joke, though a hint of bitterness stung her tone. Jamie laughed and shook his head.

“I should be so unfortunate," he said, looking around. “No, not that. Not exactly. I've decided that maybe this place could use some more friendly faces, I think. Some to help, liven things up."

Some of the girls gawked. Sally pointed to the twins. “They aren't 'lively' enough for you?"

“Well, I mean, some others to give you girls company," continued Jamie. At this, the girls fell into an almost shocked quiet.

“See, I'd been talking with a few business associates. Some of the others here who manage farms or what have you, they know people. I uh, wanted to introduce a stud or two. I had thought of Bruce – some of you girls might remember him, he was around when the property was first bought."

Again, the girls boggled. What was Jamie saying? Was he serious?

“Unfortunately, his contract got bought out and he'll be leaving for another assignment next month. Off world, if you can believe it. But, you know what I mean here, I think a guy could help? Maybe another girl or two?"

He tapped his foot. “I don't have all the details squared away just yet, but that's the idea. Heck, maybe we can expand the farm a little, do something with it. I'm sure you girls are getting a little bored, so. . ."

“No, not at all," one piped up, a bit forced. “Things are great!"

Bess wore a feigned, terse smile. “Yes," she said. “It sounds nice Jamie. We look forward to whoever you bring around."

Jamie nodded his head, oblivious. “Well, I know new faces can be strange, but I'll make some good choices. I wanted to let you all know, at least."

He was distracted by a buzzing. He flipped out a thin phone, glancing at it. “Oh, speak of the devil! Might be them. Hang on girls, gotta' take this."

Jamie turned, chatting to the caller, leaving the girls as he wandered to the farm fence. They looked between eachother.

“I knew it," said Sally. “I knew it this whole time."

“What do you mean?" said Bess.

“What do you think?" Sally retaliated. “He was never interested. Never. I was always holding to that hope that maybe he was different, maybe he was one of the ones who liked girls like, well. Us."

“You mean Hybrids?" one of the twins offered.

Sally frowned. “Hmph. Yes. Hybrids."

“Aren't you being a bit dramatic?" said Bess, arms crossing.

“What do you think all that was about?" Sally kept on, gesturing to the distant Jamie. “Bring in a stud? He's not interested in us, at all. Couldn't be more clear. If he's bringing a male well, that means. . ."

A strange gloom fell over the girls. It was an odd thing, wasn't it? To be so bothered by this? After all, wasn't this a better solution? Breeding studs were hardwired to be compatible companions in every sense of the word. They'd certainly be more attentive. They'd be around.

But yet, wasn't that just because of their breeding? Was it genuine, or because of the work of bioengineers in the pursuit to continue making “perfect" Hybrids? Regardless, the girls didn't like it.

Sally grunted. “I'm going back inside."

She turned wordless, marching off. Some of the girls followed, but Bess remained, looking back to Jamie. Was this true? Was this how it really was? Did he not like them “that way" at all? A gentle regret took her chest. She felt silly. Of course he wasn't interested in them, why would he? He was the son of an affluent family, he could probably get with any girl he wanted, girls with titles and wealth and, well, anything!

A sigh. Was she really waiting so long then for a hopeless outcome? Perhaps a stud was the best option, then. At least he'd be around more attentive. Sally, certainly, would appreciate the ability to have children.

Bess didn't know though, not truly. She didn't want to believe Jamie was just her friendly boss. She wanted to believe he could be a friend and something more, yet, if he wasn't interested in Hybrids that way, she could do little about it. Such was her lot as a Hybrid, after all. Life was respectable here but she couldn't choose.

She huffed, the black-white bovid turning to return to the estate house. She needed to process, needed to settle things in her mind. She could get over this. Probably. If she had time, at least.

-*-

Jamie finished his call. It was productive! One of the assistant farmers not twenty miles from here mentioned a few things about breeding studs. They could other lend one from Patterson's Peaches or even look into custom contracts from different worlds, if so desired. A few girls weren't too hard to come by either, but Jamie wanted to be careful there. He needed his selections to be complimentary to them, help them, not cause potential friction.

But, things sounded promising. There would need to be the matter of paperwork and such, but, nothing he couldn't handle.

Jamie pushed from the fence to return to the girls, only. . . they weren't there. Huh. They'd dispersed, either into the estate or other parts of the farm. Oh no. Did he do something wrong? Shit. Probably. Well, he did sort of throw a big decision at them, didn't he? That didn't always go over perfectly. But, he figured they'd feel better with some new company. Sure, it'd be a little strange, kind of new, but it would break the boredom, give them a male companion that was around more often.

It didn't have to be permanent either. He imagined if his father abruptly returned one day only to assert he'd found a perfect match for him Jamie would be “out of it too." Only, in this instance, he wasn't forcing the girls to get along with anyone.

Bah. Maybe he was overthinking it. Things would be fine, right?

He didn't have a chance to finish his thought. His eyes were snared by an approaching vehicle down the farm road, kicking up planetary debris as it did. He shifted, walking towards the entrance gate. Wait, that wasn't a random vehicle – that was the shipment truck Trixx came by with. Huh. Strange. Jamie scratched his head and checked his phone, scrolling through his calendar. She wasn't scheduled to stop by today, not for receiving or dropoff. Did he miss something?

The truck groaned forward, eventually slipping past the gated entranced in usual fashion. As Jamie watched, yes, it was Trixx's truck all right, had that same paint weathering on the left side caused by micro-rocks. But what was this about? Maybe she forgot to get inventory? Then again, why didn't she call ahead?

When the truck sputtered to a halt, the ignition switched off, Jamie approached. The driver's door swung open and. . . Jamie had his answer.

It was Trixx all right, but not in her usual attired. In fact, she wasn't in any attire at all.

Her curvy, nake form bounced into view, sunlight catching her rosy fur as her healthy front wobbled in gentle tosses as she hopped to the ground, brush tail swishing in sultry fashion. She put an arm to hip, taking a few steps, her hips dancing in soft sways, her predatory eyes catching and staring down Jamie with mischevious intent.

“Ah, just the man I was lookin' for," she cooed, approaching.

Jamie gawked. What the actual hell was she doing!? “Trixx!" he started, raising a hand. “What. . ."

The vixen laughed, chirping. “Am I doing? Good god, is it not obvious? Jamie, you are charmingly dense, it's astonishing. We already talked about it, didn't we?"

Talked about what? What did she mean. “Trixx, I don't know what's going on, but. . ."

She boggled. “You don't!? Haha, good god, Jam. You know, when I let the girls out for some air the other day I figured you'd at least comment on it, sheesh. I even leaned, bent over a bit, hoping you'd steal a peek. But nope!"

She approached. Jamie was awestruck for a variety of reasons. One was fairly obvious – a pretty, naked vixen was striding towards him, exposed and all, her eyes full of promise and temptation. The other was, well, confusion.

And then it clicked. Before, Trixx had gone on about attracting a guy or trying to get a fella's attention, and it hit him like a sack of bricks. It was him. Damn. Was he really so daft? Suppose so. He never even considered he was Trixx's type, much less he was the one she was after. And now he had a stalking, bouncing vixen of a problem on his hands.

“Er. . ." muttered Jamie, glancing from side to side. He could use a distraction right about now. Then again, the instinctual part of him, the hungry beast lurking inside all creatures, it roared to life.

What are you crazy!? The beast said. You really turning down an opportunity like this!?

But what did the opportunity even mean? Hybrids were so different. Incredibly forward, obviously, based on their origins. That didn't mean Jamie was looking for a relationship! He liked Trixx, she was a funny, playful gal, but this. . .

“Truly, you are a wordsmith," said the fox, sauntering to him.

“I can see how you're so successful," she added, a layer of sarcasm coating her words. Jamie cleared his throat.

“Look, Trixx, I'm uh, flattered, but. . ."

The vixen laughed. “Oh my god, shut up."

She pressed closed and nipped his cheek with a kiss, her whiskers brushing across his skin as her tongue slipped out and licked at his ear, giggling.

“I've wanted to do this for a looong time," she whispered, tail swishing. A part of Jamie thought to push her away, resist the advance, but it was hard. Impossible, even. It was like someone set his blood on fire, a wellspring of sheer hot want exploding throughout his flesh. Sense and reason were quick to leave him, excited at the opportunity of immediate satisfaction.

He couldn't help it. Trixx was strangely alluring. Sure he'd been with other girls before but those relationships (if one could call them that) didn't go very far. Maybe it was because Trixx was more earnest and upfront about things. Maybe it was, despite their difference in station, Trixx didn't mince words or take shit. She was a person and that was attractive.

Or, well, maybe it was because one of her soft hands was squeezing his crotch. Jamie gasped, tensing, his root wiggling to life. Hard not to, considering how graceful Trixx's motions were, her digits curling in perfect fashion around the dimensions of his slowly hardening shaft. All the while her perky front pressed into Jamie's chest, pancaking against him while she glanced down to her playful toying.

At this point, Jamie gave in. “Shouldn't we go inside?" he said. There wasn't anyone around, and the girls were nowhere to be seen. But it was polite, wasn't it?

“Hah, why?" challenged Trixx, both her hands slipping to Jamie's waist, stripping off his belt and tossing it to the side.

“Isn't it fun to have an audience?"

The fox's ears wiggled, glancing around. “Besides, it's just us. . . not like that'd stop me."

Indeed, she unbuttoned his trousers, tugging them down as she slid to her knees in smooth fashion, squatting while Jamie's length twitched within the barriers of his undergarments. She dawned a mischievous grin, intent clear, while Jamie was helpless to watch. Not like he was going anywhere now.

Any misplaced ideas of skidaddling were replaced by awe as Trixx slipped him free of his tethers, hard shaft springing free and into the warm hold of her caressing palms. With an expert, practiced motion she stroked along the length with long, steady sweeps, twisting her fingers to excite the length. Jamie's mast tingled in radiating waves of pleasing, electric bliss, forcing a few pleased moans from him. So this was really happening, was it? No complaints, Trixx was pretty, and a lovely vixen working him over was nothing short of paradise.

Jamie groaned again as Trixx allowed her other palm to sneak under his stones, caressing them, applying careful squeezes as she balanced the gems in her hand, nose flaring as she sipped at Jamie's masculine scent.

“Having fun, are we?" she chittered, licking chops. Jamie nodded. It had been a while since he was with a girl, and all at once those old physical memories were waking back up. The snarling animal that was himself roused at the opportunity and was eager to sample once again.

“Keep going," he said, voracious. Trixx's ears wiggled.

“Oh, what's that now?" she said, smirking. “A command? Well, you are the boss."

Trixx tilted her head before nuzzling the tip with her nose, lips pursing forward to supply a deep, long kiss against the bellend. She purred as she did, sucking the first inch with her shaped muzzle, fluttering eyelids at her human counterpart, tail swishing with playful tosses. Warm wetness washed across Jamie's flank as Trixx teased him, the sloppy sounds of her suckling acts filling his ears.

“Ghhh. . ."

Damn, and she hadn't even gotten started.

“God you're tense," continued Trixx, licking the tip with soft, flat tongue. “Been a while, has it?"

Jamie grunted. “G-guess it has."

Trixx cooed, feigning an “aww" sound. “Well, let's fix that, shall we?"

Her perky muzzle embraced the first inches of his cock, tongue swirling about the length in a strong, suckling motion, her hand leaving Jamie's testes and travelling to his hips, supporting herself. She huffed, maw embracing the malehood, sticky trails of saliva dribbling from her chin while her head tossed along the pike in steady, smooth motions.

“Oh fuck me," Jamie uttered, hand travelling to her tuft of hair as she worked in “vixeny" fashion.

She gorged on him, toying his with meat like it were freshly caught pretty, muzzle lips wrapped around the hot, twitching mast, savoring its stiffness. She slurped and gurgled with each of her motions, a digits tracing to her snatch to nuzzle clitoral nub while she savored Jamie's root. Each time her head wobbled her perky breasts matched the gravity, gently bouncing together and wiggling in enticing display.

“Hlmmmf," she huffed again, throat filled with every bit of Jamie's malehood while he moaned aloud, head tilting backward. He couldn't help but grip her hair, outright clenching it, holding on for support.

She popped him free, lapping at the tip again. “Is that an order, 'sir'?" she cooed.

Jamie's heart hammered within his chest, hot blood racing through him as he glanced down. “What if it is?"

She chuckled. “Well, you do sign my paychecks."

At once she was on him again, hands gripping his waist as her head slammed against the searing cock, slurping and gulping the twitching flank. Her throat pulsed and bulged, Trixx embracing the root with renewed gusto while sticky rivers of saliva and presex dripped from her muzzle tip. Jamie couldn't contain his groans, chest heaving with pants and gasping breaths as the giggling vixen worked him over.

Agh, dammit, she was too perfect. Somehow she knew just how to stroke with her tongue and lick at his sensitive flesh, like the dimensions of her muzzle were perfectly accustomed to the length of his cock. She was a snug fit and his mind drowned in all the other things she might do with him, the lusty animal inside him wanting for more.

“Oh f-fuck!"

Jamie buckled, entire frame twitching as the vixen ushered him to first orgasm, surging peak exploding from his tip. In this brief period of instinct, he reached down to grab Trixx at the sides of her head, his testes draining inside her welcoming, hot throat. In foxy fashion, she didn't resist, only mumble in amused pleasure while the thin ropes of seed filled her maw. She swallowed, savoring the masculine nectar, Jamie finishing with helpless bucks and squirms while his shaft started to soften.

Eventually, Trixx popped free, a trail of saliva and sticky issue bridging her lips to the tip. She chuckled, petting the moist, softening member, brow quirked.

“Oh, no way, you're not done yet."

Jamie wiped his brow. “Wait, what?"

He was of course foolish to think a vixen was done with her meal after the appetizer. As the fuzzy sensation of afterglow warmth overcame him, Jamie found himself looking at the sky. Trixx had shoved him over with one smooth, surprisingly strong push, his frame collapsing into the soft grass. She crawled atop him, wielding a predatory grin, soft bosom wobbling together.

“I've got more plans for you, Jam," she said, sitting on his stomach. Her soft, plump rump squished against his abdomen, fluff tail flicking in the air while her palms went to his chest.

“Don't tell me you're already worn out?" she added.

Jamie clenched his teeth, but not from pain. The enticing form of the fox poured a wellspring of renewed heat throughout him, fuel for the furnace. He didn't think he'd get stiff again so quickly, and yet, Trixx's enticing, curvy vixen body was enough to rouse him. He'd forgotten how wild and captivating Hybrids were, how much their animal features added an exotic touch only making him want more.

“Not anymore," Jamie managed, hands travelling upward to grip and caress her tender, generous front, another palm racing across her sides. Ah, her fur was wonderful to the touch, silky and pleasant, tickling his skin. She purred, foxy chirps leaving her while her hips wiggled in quick motions, pushing back against the soft mast.

Well, not soft anymore. Indeed, though Jamie was still in the fog of his previous peak, he found himself aroused once again, sloppy, glistening prick spiking to life. The grass on his back was nice, too – not quite as comfy as a bed but hey! He was on a farm for pete's sake! About time he did some roughing it. Couldn't get any closer than having a vixen in a grassy field, right?

While the two continued their “exchange," the bovid girls stood by, shocked. Most had gone inside to the estate and others to the barn, but all were aware of what was happening. It was nothing short of dumbfounding. A moment ago they believed Jamie wanted nothing to do with Hybrids, and yet here he was, mounted by a vixen.

Jamie, in the meantime, didn't notice. He did, however, feel the hot, suckling lips of Trixx's snatch sink on him as she gently lifted her rear, pushing the bellend into her soft, awaiting tunnel. She rumbled with a pleased, hushed moan, a snug fit as the root found earth. Her hand slipped to Jamie's shoulder as she settled herself on the cock, the hot wet folds dripping with presex.

“God," she simpered, “It's been so fucking long."

Jamie grunted, his loins lighting up with a new wave of intense, nervy pleasure. “Y-yeah?"

She panted, offering one more smirk. “Nnnhmm. . ."

He took that as a yes. Didn't have time to think of much else, however. At once, Trixx started to toss and bounce her hips in a slow, growing rhythm. Each slow toss and collision caused a resounding clap of hips and skin, echoing across the grassy knoll, intermixed with the loud, yipping cries of Trixx and Jamie.

God, there was so much of her to enjoy despite her being more petite than the bovid counterparts. Her motions were swift, practiced, and precise, tossing her plump haunches upon the awaiting length, rump jiggling with each impact. All the while her taut breasts crashed together, muffled only by Jamie's greedy, exploring palm as he gripped one, squeezing and kneading, the excess sac practically spilling from his fingers.

“Oh fucking hell Trixx. . ." Jamie groaned out, unable to contain himself. Oh yes, this was wonderful, this was everything. The animal in his brain was yowling in victory, consumed by the vision of a bouncing vixen riding his root.

His hands travelled to her thick, soft backside, spreading and squeezing her slopes as she hastened her bounces, each once forcing quicker, hotter groans from her perky muzzle. Like a storm the left her until she assaulted the air with a barrage of cries, juices from her lips spilling over into the grass. She was beside herself, dizzy, in a cloud of lust and sex, head arching as she rode herself to peak, a gushing surge of hot intensity overwhelming her trembling loins.

“Nnnah!"

Jamie felt her erupt, her orgasm exploding as searing wetness poured from her lower lips. His body shuddered in unison, once again hitting that potent peak, tip bursting with hot white issue, the fluids of their sticky congregation mingling together. Trixx rode through her orgasm, bouncing hips while her tunnel was filled, mewling in steamy huffs while her frame shivered from exhaustion. Like a perverse opera their breaths swam together, Trixxy leaning down to supply a sloppy lick against his cheek, then a kiss, where he could taste the salt of himself.

He clasped her hips, staring passed her a moment into the infinite alien sky, then back to her eyes. The light caught her fur and hair, an intoxicating vision. Hmm. She was gorgeous. In fact, Hybrids were. Why did it take him so long to realize this? A thought dawned then. . . the other Hybrid gals were quite attractive too.

Slowly, the fox pulled herself from Jamie's root, offering a pleased sigh. His cock loosened with a squishy, audible 'pop,' a thin river of their “congregation" leaking from her cleft. As she wobbled off him, Jamie pushed himself up, his crotch a mess.

“Damn," he uttered. “Been a while."

Trixx snickered. “I could tell."

“It wasn't that obvious, was it?"

Trixx stood now, flexing and stretching herself as juices dribbled down her thigh. Her tail swished, looking the messy human over. Jamie grunted.

“All right, all right," he said, standing too, pulling up his pants – though it did little to conceal issue splattered on him. Eesh. He had to clean up.

“Uhh, I need to shower," he admitted. “Don't want to freak the girls out."

“Maybe try the barn then, smart guy," Trixx said, laughing. Oh, shit, she was right, the girls probably went to the estate.

“Yeah. . . what about you?"

She shrugged. “I'll manage. Got a hose?"

“Oh, come on, you can use mine, it's not a big deal."

She feigned a salute. “Whatever you say 'boss'."

Jamie didn't waste any time, scurrying off to clean himself. Trixx watched him go, amused. She finally got the horse to drink – only took yanking out his cock and sucking him off. Guy was dense. Nice, but thick as a brick, too much time in the clouds. Didn't even see the literal banquet of options he had. But maybe he would now. . .

Trixx gathered up her clothes and went towards the estate. When she approached, entering, she was met by a timid crowd of eyes.

“Ah, the silent cheerleaders," Trixx said. Bess and a few of the other bovid Hybrids had – unsurprisingly – seen the whole thing. They were, for the most part, awestruck.

“You. . ." Bess started, the mature cow stepping forward. “How did you. . ."

Trixx blinked. “How what? Fuck your guy? I mean, you saw what I did, right? Guy just needed convincing. I mean I had to shove my tits in his face but you know, got results."

“You did something," interjected Sally. “You tricked him. He's not into Hybrid girls, he said so!"

Trixx found it funny they didn't seem to mind the scent of sex pouring from her. Or maybe they did and it was driving them crazy. The vixen rubbed her eyes.

“Gooood, you all just need a giant gangbang, you know that? I didn't do anything except, well, be a vixen. Don't know where got the 'not interested' angle in from. Believe me, he was very intrigued by fox pussy."

Bess huffed. “Shut up."

Trixx rolled her eyes. “Oh relax. You act like I'm here to steal your man, or something."

In the meantime, one of the other girls explained about Jamie's discussion of inviting others to the farm, especially a bull.

Trixx tittered her head. “Well. . . what's wrong with some bull dick? Those guys are pretty hung you know. You'd have fun."

“We don't want that!" Bess challenged. “We just. . . want. . ."

Trixx chuckled. “Jamie?"

Silence, gazes turning away. Trixx laughed again. “God, what is this, Victorian times? You all act like there's this complicated ritual involve. Jeeze. You want my advice?"

The vixen swaggered to the stairs, stopping to turn at the rest of the bovid Hybrids. “Mount the guy and fuck his brains out."

The curvy fox scurried upstairs to clean herself up, leaving the herd to stare at each other. For a while, they said nothing. This was ridiculous, that was too crass! There were protocols and rules and you didn't just. . . do that. And yet, Trixx did. Like it was nothing. Tossed aside caution and did something they only dreamed about. Was it really so simple?

Bess kept quiet, but she thought it over. Maybe it was. Maybe it was time to make Jamie the bull.

She was going to make it happen.