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This story is a fictitious product of my imagination and should not be read if the reader has a hatred of gay/bi people, gay sex, etc., or sex-oriented writing in general. Any semblance to real life within this story is purely coincidental. This story uses components of abstract sexual fantasies and may not be for you. A few involving mpreg, muscle growth, lactation, vore, and acts of homosexual intercourse. If you are not 18 years of age, I recommend you click off your browser because it is likely this content is illegal for your reading.
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Author's note: Hi everyone I'm doing good. My beta reader has been really busy and that's why I haven't been uploading. This story is not over! I'll still be uploading though my beta reader isn't helping at the moment. Thank you to everyone who emailed me while the story entered that unplanned hiatus! I love getting emails from readers. Shoot me an email at the end of the story if you enjoy it and we can talk about it!
CH 17.
"Jesus Christ!" Heather exclaimed.
"This feels like déjà vu," Marc said.
The two stood in the school's hallway in front of the community board. There were serval flyers that had been added for Milkem's spring tour. Their official opening. They'd be welcoming people outside of the state to come and peruse their grounds. Even dates for future summer tours were listed in small font in the corner.
"I am in control, "Heather turned on her heels and started walking in the opposite direction.
"That's it? " Marc asked her, "You're not going to tear it down?"
Heather turned back pleased at Marc's words, "Okay, just one." She snatched the Milkem poster down taking down a bundle of flyers that were posted behind it. Heather held the balled up the paper, "This is therapeutic."
Marc walked over closer to her, looking at where she tore down. "What the?" Marc reached toward one poster that had been left up. The word missing' adorned the center of the paper in all caps and red font. Below a picture of a teenager smiling was followed by the word COWMAN'.
"Aw, jeez." Heather sighed, "Gustin Akers. He went missing over summer break. Like a week before you came." Heather reached up and snatched another flyer down!
"Heather!"
"What?!" Heather turned the paper she had torn down around, revealing a flyer for the school's bake sale a week after spring break.
"Oh, never mind," Marc said. "What do you think their aim is?" He turned his attention back to the Milkem poster. Mr. Karter's smiling face with the Milkem building behind him.
"I think they believe they'll wear everyone down to a point when no one will care." Heather sighed. "And they might be right. Maybe not this year or next, but if they keep giving out Bullmen's milk that won't last long."
Heather and Marc eyed each other. They knew what they were thinking; if someone could constantly promise to deliver Bullman milk there nothing a person wouldn't do to get it. An orgasm served up with a sensation. Uncle T told Marc treated bullman's milk had less of orgasm, muscle growth, but that was intentional. Farmers used to do that so people could have healthier lifestyles incorporated with it.
Heather rolled her eyes , "Let's go, you're still helping me do a favor for my mom right?"
Marc sighed, "Well, my uncle gave the day workers half a day and the night workers the time off. So, I'd have nothing else to do at home."
"Why?"
"He's going to meet with Princeton again, then who knows what else? Said he won't be back till tomorrow morning."
"Ah, He's probably going to get laid," Heather said.
"He's not. " Marc said.
"Dude, since you've been here have you seen him get it on with any of the females."
Marc shook his head.
"Of course not," Heather walked down the hall, "He probably has a girlfriend in another town."
The two left the school building and approached Heather's car. "Oh, can you let me drive?" Marc asked. "I've had my permit for 2 months and I haven't been able to drive anywhere.
"You know it doesn't matter. Your permit will automatically turn into a license. They mail it to you."
"I know, but I put down my parents' address." Marc sighed, Heather tossed Marc the keys and the two got into the driver's side of Heather's car. Marc pulled as Heather gave him directions to the Simmons' farm.
As they came upon Heather's house. Marc said, "You never asked why my license going to my parents house was a problem."
Heather was reaching into her bag, not remotely focused on Marc, "I figured it was none of my business."
"Be open, be open." Marc thought. As Marc pulled into the driveway, he stopped the car and took a deep breath. He gripped the stirring wheel tightly. He knew he could do this. "My parents are split up and my dad's not at home."
Heather didn't say anything.
"But," Marc added some enthusiasm to his voice, "They've been talking since December, so things are looking up."
"Do you want to talk about it more?" Heather asked in a gentle, calm voice that was so unlike her. Normally every word she spoke carried energy, an edge, that dared to light a fire under Marc's butt.
Heather smiled and got out of the car, "Let's get inside before Brett tries to hump the car door,"
"He wouldn't do that." Marc said getting out and closing the car door. Heather smirked and headed inside. "Wait, would he?"
Once inside the two headed to the third floor. They made their way past the Horsemen that littered the halls of the second floor.
"Where's your little brother?"
Heather looked around, "Who knows? Mom picked him up. Maybe him and Colt went outside to play."
Heather led Marc to a dark mahogany door, she slammed a hand on the entrance. "Okay this is the second filing room we have. Don't ask about the first, please. When you enter this room remember this space was organized for my dad. However, my dad recently had to find some papers and well..." Heather turned the knob. Papers were scattered on the floor and cabinets were left open.
Marc stepped into the room "What the?" Navigating in the mess was harder than trudging through 6ft of snow. Marc tripped on a hidden wire and slammed onto the ground. Documents flew into the air carried by the impact.
"Careful," Heather said rushing over and helping Marc back up.
"How can your dad make such a mess?" Marc grabbed for paper's revealing the wire he tripped on.
"You'd be surprised." Heather bent down and examined the papers Marc held. These papers a poster sized can you put them in the cabinet on the back wall. She started collected some papers. "This may take a while," she admitted.
Marc eyed one end of the room to another. "We better start now."
The two spent the entire afternoon working on the disaster. There were various cabinets. Ones her mom had chosen for specific documents. Some folders that belonged in certain drawers, other could hold various paper sizes. Heather knew it all and she had no problem dictating it to Marc.
A knock came at the door. Heather's mom was standing at the door with an awed expression. "The Floor...I can see it." She put her hand over heart. "Marc, bless you so much for taking your time to help Heather our with her chores." Mrs. Simmons walked away with a smile.
Marc turned his head around, "Chores? I thought you said your mom needed help."
"Wow! Look at the time. Have we been working for that long?! You know we deserve some snacks. I'll go get them." Heather hopped up avoiding eye contact with Marc and left them room.
"Yeah, you betta run away!" Marc shouted.
As Heather disappeared another body poked their head into the filing room. Brett, curious peered in, spotted Marc, and he walked in. Brett's hands were hidden behind his back as he greeted Marc.
"Hey Brett. What you got there?"
Brett pulled envelope from behind his back handing it to Marc. Opening it revealed a card inside. The card read `Sorry, I was an ass' with and illustration of a donkey, the inside of the card Brett wrote, "It wasn't very Horseman of me."
Marc chuckled at the joke. It was stupid but also hilarious, "Thanks, but what's the card for?"
Brett crouched down, helping Marc collect the last of the scattered papers on the floor. " I wanted to say I was sorry about the whole who's your cowman boyfriend thing. At first, I thought about getting you chocolate, then I realized you might be allergic. Next, I thought flowers would be nice, but you probably don't have a vase for them."
"Thanks, but you didn't need to do that Brett, that's really sweet. Though the boyfriend comment was months ago."
"I know, but Heather didn't tell me, what I had done wrong till a month ago, and then I couldn't think of what to do," Brett passed the papers he had collected to Marc .
"She must have told you after you pestered her about it, huh?"
Brett nodded his head sadly.
"Sounds like her," Marc separated the paper into two piles. He got up and started to sort one pile away.
Heather came back carrying tray with sandwiches on it, "No, don't do that!" She spotted Marc, walked over, shoving the tray into Brett's hands. Heather grabbed the papers from Marc and leafed through them. "These are all regular size sheets of paper; they should go in the Gray cabinet. The Epsilon cabinets, here are specifically made for holding larger sizes."
"Okay, Nerd." Marc joked.
Brett snickered.
"Fine, I deserve that for bringing you here." Heather held back from saying anything, but Marc knew she had a witty comeback just waiting to slip out. She pointed to Brett, "but don't think you're off the hook."
"Marc, I thought you were a pretty great guy before just based on looks, but now I know that." Brett said ignoring her.
"Why's, that?"
"You're Cowman are huge! All that muscle, you must love them a lot." Brett turned to Heather. "If only someone loved me that much!" Brett cried dramatically throwing's arm on his head.
Heather turned up her face. "Brett, you're 6'4!"
"6'5" Brett corrected.
"Exactly, what do you want from me? You're never going to look like a wrestler. That's Cowmen's bodies. You have to accept you'll look like a professional track, or basketball player."
Brett smiled, "Maybe if Marc gave me some lovin' that might change."
"Doubtful." Heather stated no longer paying attention.
The three continued working until the afternoon was over. When they finished up Heather locked the door and they went to the second floor
"I've got an idea, let's check out Brett's room," She gave a wicked smile.
"No, you can't!" Brett begged Marc.
Marc rubbed his neck, "I don't know Heather if he doesn't—
"Trust me Marc. You'll love it ! I know your curiosity is piqued. You can't help it."
Marc had to admit he was a sucker for checking out things he had no business snooping into, but he wished Heather hadn't secretly called him out for snooping at Milkem's Farm.
Brett watched as Marc held his hands together, pleading "Please?"
"UGH! Fine Let's go," Brett lead the two teenagers to his room. Dark gray painted along the walls with white as a border . A window brought light into the space giving it a cozier feel. A dresser littered with trophies accompanies with a shorter and longer dresser supporting a TV. Marc looked around unimpressed with what Heater promised, this was a typical teenager's room.
Brett sighed, "I wanted you in my room Marc, but not like this."
Heather stepped into the room opening the window, " Yeah, you wanted him face fucking you, we all know."
Brett's face went red.
"Marc, check the closet please." She leaned against the windowsill.
"When did you find it?" Brett said.
Heather laughed, "You can't hide it from me."
Marc open the clothes and there was nothing buy clothes neatly hanging. Marc did think that was weird, at his parent's house his closet was hardly ever neat. But not worthy of whatever Heater was going on about. On the floor he spotted a gym bag he bent down and pulled it out. He was about to open when he realized he was going through Brett's personal things.
"Go ahead, just don't laugh to hard," Brett said.
Marc opened the bag. There was an abundance of stuff sitting inside, but the thing on the top was pink construction paper, on it was written `Heather is the best- luv Brett.' The words were janky, written in crayon, and mismatched sizes, but Marc had no reason to doubt this was Brett's.
"See, Brett may act all cool and leave but that's his true self."
"Puh-lease, I wrote that when I was 8." Brett said
Heather raised a finger, " So why do you still have it?"
Brett didn't answer.
"Is this you," Marc said pulling out photo of a kid in basketball uniform. Bret nodded his head, "You look so cute! Look at all these baby teeth. Actually, I think you're missing one." Marc stuck his hand in the bag pulling out another photo, "This is you too? What are you 5? Look at all that hair."
"Horseman hair grows fast and long if we don't cut it. Most of the schools around here forbid Horsemen male students from having hair longer than shoulder length," Heather added.
"What do you do with all the hair?"
"Donate some, sell the rest," Heather answered.
Marc nodded digging for another photo. He pulled out a recent one of Brett in another uniform the only problem was Brett's face was softer and he was short, barely 5'0.
"Oh my god, the track and field team photo?" Heather walked over and held the picture. "I remember when we all went to see your first game."
"It's called a meet."
"Can't you appreciate MY sentiment," Heather looked back at the photo. She held the picture to Marc, "Wouldn't you want to be friends with this champ?"
"I would," Marc answered' "I wasn't that tall myself last year so I would have loved a friend. Especially one so cute." Marc laid it on thick.
Brett eased up, unfurrowing his face. "Really?
"Oh, did you hear that?" Heather said. "and I remember a certain someone always asking me. `Heather when am I going to grow taller, why am I not big yet?'"
"I only asked a couple of times, " Brett's face was endanger of staying permanently red.
"But I was being honest, you look great here. Are you on the college team now?" Marc asked.
Heather and Brett fell silent. Marc didn't know what he had said that killed the mood.
"Two years ago, the school board disallowed Horsemen to compete in high school and university games. They decided humans should compete against humans."
"What about all the Horsemen that were on teams?" Marc asked.
"They got cut, what choice did the schools have?" Brett said. "They're going to start teams for Horsemen next year."
"But aren't you a first year in college Brett?" Marc asked.
"I am. Sucked I wasn't able to finish the high school circuit though. But it's the same argument they had for Cowmen in college games, especially wrestling." Brett leaned his head against the wall, eyes cast upon the floor. "You should have seen me I was amazing." He whispered.
"I want to see you run." Marc said.
"Huh?" Brett said.
"Someday I'll come see you run. Maybe at one of those college meets."
Brett pumped is fist in the air, "Hell yeah!"
Marc checked his phone. It was time to go. Marc said his goodbyes to Brett as Heather went with him to the car. The two got in the car with Marc in the driver's seat.
"What was all that about?"
"What?" Heather said looking around.
"Come on, taking me to Brett's room, showing me his baby photos. You had a plan, and it wasn't all to torture Brett."
Heather threw up her hands, "Okay fine you caught me. I thought I could help him score some points in your heart. Especially, if I showed you, he wasn't born a hot Norse god. He was a regular cute kid." She bopped her head, "that puberty hit with a truck."
"Uh huh," Marc said.
Heather leaned into the side of her door, "Sure he's this flirty college student now, but before he was fumbling over himself." She looked out the windshield towards her house. "And I've never seen him want anyone as badly as you. She turned and smiled at Marc, "We should thank the world you're so inexperienced because Brett's flirting has no effects." She grinned "Well, I guess it has SOME effect." She pointed to Marc's crotch.
Marc covered his pants.
She continued "Though nothing that has borne any results. I decided to push the needle."
"Why?" said Marc.
She huffed, "Marc when most horsemen turn 21 that's it, no more desire to touch or even look at the same-sex sexually. However, like humans Horsemen can be gay, bi, pan, straight etc. but it's very few. My dad has a theory: that some end up straight because they never test their limits. Now you might think that's a crock of horse-shit."
Marks face dropped.
"Sorry, I had to." She laughed, "But that not my only concern. This might be Brett's last time to be with a guy. I've never seen him purse one so strongly."
"I bet because all the guys come to him." Marc stated.
"Fair point, but be quiet, I'm still talking. If this is his last hoorah as a gay horseman, I want it to be a good one."
"Didn't you say he had until he was 21?"
"I said `might'. All Horsemen are different. It's between 18 and 21 that they typically stop desiring the same-sex" She side. "Regardless, my plan worked, didn't it?"
Marc started up Heather's car not answering, then turned his head "You're lucky he's cute in that Track and Field uniform." He pulled off into the withering evening sky.
Marc drove Heather's car all the way to his Uncle's farm. Once they arrived Heather booted him out and said she had to go torture Brett for real.
"He's not going to get away with implying I didn't love him enough! After I put up with his annoying antics every day."
As Heather drove off Marc looked at the sky. The dark of night was setting in. Without the workers the place seemed empty. Standing alone in the growing night, the sounds of bugs and emptiness filled the air. Marc got a chill down his spine and hurried inside.
Rushing in, Marc swung the door open and it slammed into Deborah's face. She fell on her ass and grabbed for her nose.
"I'm so sorry!" Marc reached to help her up.
"No, no it's my fault I wasn't paying attention." Deborah took Marc's hand and got back to her feet.
"Not paying attention? That doesn't sound like you," Marc tilted his head. Deborah was usually jotting down notes in her pad, or interviewing other workers and Cowmen. When she made a mistake it's usually because she was overly cautious.
"I know," Deborah shook her head, "It's just I heard Weston and Javier inviting Dru and Sheila to a Milkem tour in the summer. I got so upset. Like why they didn't invite me? They even told Dru and Sheila to think it over and not tell anyone else," Deborah flipped her hair and wiped a tear from her eye. "Doesn't matter though. Sucks for them I'm going to the spring tour, I got my pass and everything," She nodded her head proudly, as if she got one up on them.
"Milkem? Aren't they a competitor? And my uncle hates that place how could any of you go there?" Marc wasn't trying to be a hypocrite. He was just saving face; the truth was he wanted to take another tour to get a taste of Bullmen milk. Ken and Trevor were right here on the farm, But Marc doubted his uncle would ever let him drink Bullmen milk ever again.
Deborah's eyes went wide in disbelief, "Farmer Tyrone may be our boss but, he has no control over how we spend our free time outside of work." Deborah pulled out her notepad a shook it, "Also it's nice to study how different places do things. Might give me some pointers."
"Speaking of `outside of work', why are you still here? Didn't Uncle T give everyone the day off early?"
Deborah's face went red and she put her hand over it, "Ugh! I messed something up. Please, don't ask me. I'm sure your uncle will tell you when you see him. I spent the whole afternoon fixing it."
Deborah worked herself into a frenzy and Marc had to dismiss her before she could drone on.
Marc headed towards the stairs. He was going to lie down in his room. He was tired from helping Heather. Not to mention, there were some mental images of Brett to store in the cute section of his brain.
The door to the milking stations opened. Isabella stepped out, her back faced towards Marc. She was muttering something to herself angerly. When she turned around, she nearly jumped out her skin.
"Marc! I didn't know anyone was here, you scared me!" Her hands were holding a tray full of bottled milk. Though she was scared and had moved the milk barely reflected it, still sitting perfectly.
"Isabella...not you too." Marc walked over to her and grabbed a bottle of milk. "Did you check this out with a worker?" Trick question, she couldn't have, they were all gone.
She shook her head. Marc turned the bottle around in his hand and saw it was labeled Ken's milk. He grabbed another one. Also, Ken's milk. He sat it back down. "Wow, Ken must really trust you to let him taste his milk." Marc was trying to keep in his anger, but he was passive aggressively looking at the label on all the cartons. He stopped when he spotted one labeled for Trevor. 4 were Ken's 4 were Trevor's.
"Forgive me, Marc I wanted to taste it so bad." Isabella pleaded. Marc watch her do her pleading dance hands full, but all he could think about was birthday cakes. Cake would go nice with the milk she was carrying.
"Marc are you listening?" Isabella asked .
Marc felt his anger dissipate. It wasn't a relationship thing. Dru had been right. Cowmen were some fiends when it came to milk. And if a nice girl like Isabella was doing it. Who knows who else was too? Though if Isabella had Trevor's milk that means she probably knew he was a bullman too.
Marc stepped Aside arm stretched out, to let Isabella go by.
"Thank you, Marc. Thank you!" She walked away with the carton. Marc watched her leave and decides to go visit Ken and Trevor.
Knocking on the door to their place he was welcomed in. He found Ayden, Ken, and Trevor all working out in their underwear. He'd had a dream like this several times before, but Ayden was a extra bonus of eye candy.
Marc had been on hikes before and had tripped half a dozen times, that's how he knew the smell invading his nostrils reminded him of the forest floor. Trevor's earthy aroma and Ken's wooden sent had been mixed into and overpowering musk, not to mention Ayden's non-descriptive pheromones added to the concoction.
Ayden stopped his curls, Ken stopped his crunches, and Trevor stopped his pushups, they stared at Marc. Marc's cock visibly tented his pants, twitching at every strain, every flex, every movement of their muscle.
Ayden set down his weights. "Open the windows." Marc wasn't moving, he wasn't saying anything. He watched the three moved about. Marc followed the sight of their asses and when they turned around, he was just as glued to their cocks.
Both Ken and Trevor had to hop in the shower before Marc was back to normal. Once he had calmed down Marc couldn't remember why he had come over.
"What were you guys doing? Besides working out. That did not feel like a normal session." Marc was sitting on the couch while Ken and Trevor sat on the floor in front of him.
"We were testing ourselves," Trevor said.
"Testing for what?" Marc asked.
"We wanted to know if we could be affected by each other pheromones." Ken answered. "We've lived together for so long, but we've never had sex."
"We wondered why." Trevor said.
"So, you worked out?" Marc asked.
"That was my idea," Ayden came in from the kitchen and handed Marc a glass of water.
"Wouldn't the easy way be to just have sex?" Marc scanned the faces around the room, all frowns.
Ayden sighed, "We tried that, but they couldn't decide who would be on the bottom."
"It doesn't have to be penetrative, or they could flip." Marc said. He wasn't sure if he was still suffering from aftereffects of the pheromones, or if he was too horny, but he wanted to see them fuck each other's brains out. He always thought he'd be more upset hearing his Bullmen wanted to fuck each other and not him.
"I brought that up too, but neither of them relented."
Marc's phone rang and went outside to answer it.
"Hi, dad!"
Hey Marc, what's up? I don't have long so I'm going to cut to the chase. Your mother and I were wondering if you wanted to come visit us for the summer?"
"Dad, Of course I loved too!" Marc looked back at the door he just exited. " Dad, what if I wanted to bring some friends/"
Marc skipped back into the house. "Guys can we take a picture I can send to my parents?"
The four boys gathered around and Marc sent a picture to his mom and dad. It wasn't till after he considered he was sitting in a group of shirtless guys.
"How would you guys feel about coming to the city with me this summer?"
"Are you leaving to go home?" Trevor asked.
"Marc, please don't just leave us," Ken said.
Ayden shot them both weird looks that Marc caught. "I won't be able to go because, I'll be taking college summer courses. But say bye before you leave."
"Woah, who said anything about leaving? I'm only spending up to my birthday with them and you guys could come for like 10 days before it."
Ken frowned. "But we'd miss your birthday, I want cake again."
"I know but my parents want me to spend the day alone, just the three of us." Marc said.
"If that's what they want." Trevor said.
"Marc, do you mind taking me to the milk stations." Ayden asked.
"What?!" Ken and Trevor said in unison.
"Why me?"
Ayden scratched the back of his head, "I got caught up with these two, I didn't have time to go. But I'm going to start leaking in my shirt if I put it off any longer."
"No, he can't take you," Trevor said.
"You'll have to go tomorrow," Trevor and Ken stuck an arm out in front of Marc, blocking Ayden off.
"Guys chill out," Marc used his hands to put down the Bullmen's arms, "Weston showed me how to do it and I am like an intern so I should help."
"But Marc," they whined.
"No buts."
Ayden and Marc left outside.
"That was cool how you took charge of two Bullmen." Ayden shoved his hands into his pockets
"What, Ken and Trevor? They're kind...besides I'm sure they're going to follow us once they think we're far enough away."
"You're probably right." Ayden chuckled, "Though you know, they heard you right?"
Marc stopped walking, "What?"
"On the phone with your dad. They heard you. They heard you ask. They heard your dad say yes and the picture request." Ayden turned his head back towards the house. "I know because I heard you speaking clear as day with the door closed, if Bullmen have even better hearing, then they must have heard your dad. That's why I was surprised they pretended not to know." Ayden started walking again with Marc right behind him, "They probably don't want you to go because they're afraid you won't come back."
Marc digested that as they made their way to the milking stations. Even as he helped Ayden get situated in the chair and hooked up the machine to Ayden's nipples. It began running with its loud machinations. Marc sat down.
What would he do if his parents wanted him to move back?
He stood up and walked out the room. He needed some air and Ayden would be hooked up for at least another 20 minutes. Marc leaned against the wall. What would the right thing be? As he thought it over, he noticed a door was open way down the hall.
He walked towards it. The door was metal and bulky and cold air escaped from the inside. The refrigeration unit. Marc hadn't been in there, but what else could it have been. As he trotted closer, he heard a voice from within.
Marc shook his head, first Dru and Sheila, then Isabella, who was taking milk now? Marc stepped inside. There were shelves upon shelves of people's milk. Each carton and bottled was organized according to names and where they live on the farm. Marc thought it was a bit complex. He walked further in. The person he heard was having a conversation, but the other party wasn't responding, perhaps a telephone.
As he got further in Marc peered through the shelves hiding out of sight. He caught a person moving, cell phone in hand.
"Yes, we got the next batch of milk." The person paused. "We'll bring you THEIR milk too. We're not idiots. We already have it in waiting."
Marc recognized the voice, but he couldn't place it. Why not? He'd heard people speak hundreds of time before. The person speaking made sure to emphasize `their', meaning there was a specific party whose milk he wanted. The only person Marc could think of was Ayden who was still hooked up on the machine.
Marc knew he had to turn back, but first he had to know who was talking that way he could tell his uncle. Marc pressed onward. As the person on the phone finished the conversation, Marc got a better image. A tall male figure stood in the center of Marc's sight wearing an aviator jacket and baggy pants with black boots. Marc had to hold in a gasp. He'd recognize that giant anywhere, but the man turned around and confirmed his suspicions. Javier.
Javier got a text message and then called someone.
"So, a rat, huh? Javier said.
Marc felt a presence come up behind him. The hair on his neck stood up in ends. He hoped that Trevor, or Ken had decided to follow him.
"Yep," the voice came from behind Marc. Marc spun as fast as he could on his heels, only to be greeted by the barrel of a gun.
"But don't worry, I got it." Weston smirked; the worker was dressed down in casual clothing. His handgun was locked right onto Marc's head.
"What kind of joke is this?" Marc asked.
Weston made a mockingly pouty face. "Oh, this is no joke. This is the real deal. Now come on," Weston nudged his gun. Marc had no choice but to follow. Out of the corner of his eye Marc watched Javier start packing more milk away.
The two exited the refrigeration unit into the hallway.
"What are you going to do to me?" Marc said being forced to walk on ahead.
"I think you already know," Weston answered.
The two passed by the room Ayden was in.
Weston smacked Marc, "Keep your head forward. And don't try to call him. He wouldn't be able to hear you anyway."
The two entered the Main Hall. "Out the front." Weston ordered.
Marc could feel tears forming in his eyes, "Why are you doing this?"
"Kid, I'm not some narcissistic supervillain. I'm not going to tell you anything so just shut up." The two exited the front of the house, off the property. The dead of night, no workers around surrounded by absolute darkness. Weston made Marc cross the street. They walked till they entered a small woodsy area.
"That's the thing about the county kid to many plains." Weston said. "Alright turn around."
Marc had tears running down his face. He thought he knew what fear was, but this was on another level. All this over some milk? How the hell did this escalate.
"I gotta say kid, sorry it had to end this way. I liked you, but this is the job. Couldn't risk shooting so close to where the Cowmen could still hear." Weston lined up his gun.
Marc closed his eyes waiting for the bullet. But the sound never came. Instead Marc heard Weston grunt as he dropped the gun. Marc's eyes shot open as he tried fell to the ground. His eyes tried to adjust. Ken, shirtless, had grabbed Weston's arm and had forced him to drop the gun. Marc collapsed his legs didn't have the strength to keep him up anymore.
The Marc saw something he'd never forget; As the two struggled Ken opened his mouth and swallowed Weston's head. Weston stared throwing out profanities. Ken pressed Weston's arms down as his mouth worked over Weston's neck and shoulders. Weston's strength meant nothing in the face of a bullman. Weston's arms was shoved in along with his torso. By now Ken's neck was bulging out and his stomach was following suit. Javier thrashed around wildly as items and trinkets fell out of his pockets. Ken took off Weston's shoes as the man was forced further in, the boots fell to the ground with a THUD. Ken slurped and Weston's wiggling feet disappeared.
Ken fell back on his ass into the ground, stomach bloated with Weston. Marc ran to him, "Holy Shit Ken!" He kneeled on the ground where Weston's items had fallen. He could feel them cutting into his knees. He pressed a hand to Ken's stomach, Weston Jerked inside, eliciting a moan from Ken.
"You ate a person. You did that."
"He was going to kill you."
Marc knew that. He hadn't said his words out of protest rather out of shock. Weston a full-grown human being was packed a way inside Ken.
"Can you spit him out."
Ken shook his head. " I can't that's a one-way trip." His stomach jostled full of a future meal.
"What happens now?"
Ken's, stomach released a growl. "I think digestion." On cue Ken's stomach gurgled. Marc and Ken could do nothing but sit and watch as it happened.
The next morning, Marc woke up on something pillow, pillow and yet hard. He pulled himself from his bed. Only to find out it wasn't a bed he had been sleeping on, it was Ken's chest. Ken's pecs had grown, His whole body had. Marc scanned over Ken. The bullman was taller his shorts we stopped at the thighs. A fat bulge throbbed underneath them. Marc's eyes drifted up Ken's abs were visible again. Marc wondered if he had some weird dream, looking around he saw boots tossed on the ground and a gun in the distance it all happened. He eyes went back to Ken's chest. He let his finger graze the nipple.
"Ah," Ken moaned softly opening his eyes. When he saw Marc, he smiled which quickly fell. " Oh my god I ate Weston."
"Not just that." Marc nodded to the bullman's body. Ken sat up in shock, running his eyes over himself. "I-I grew?" Ken grabbed his pecs. "I think these are full again." He turned his head to Marc.
Marc's dark brown eyes were drilling holes into Ken, "Is something wrong with my face?" Ken grabbed his head.
"Your face is sharper, more angular." Marc reached out a hand a traced Ken's jawline. His had fell to Ken's chest, "You ate Weston; reduced him to nothing. You absorbed him." Marc touched Ken's arm and lifted it. "Uncle T said this happens but didn't really believe it." Marc didn't know if he was scared, or not, but he couldn't shut the hell up.
Ken's belly rumbled, "Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh?" Ken threw Marc off grabbing at his stomach and running deeper into the woods.
Marc didn't chase after he laid on the ground and stared at the morning sky. Today was Saturday. The day after he had helped Heather with filing. The day after he had been threated with a gun. Weston would have shot him and left him here for dead.
Marc got to his knees and looked around that gun had to be here somewhere.
The first thing he came upon was the items that had fallen out of Weston's pocket. An opened pack of Bubble gum, a regular school pencil, a purple pen, various scraps of paper, and a small silver key. Marc pocketed the pencil and the pen. He also looked at the key. It had the number 117 etched in it. He turned it over. There didn't seem to be anything special about it, so he pocketed it as well. The scraps of paper were just trash receipts.
He spotted the gun in the distance. Marc got on to his feet and collected Weston's boots and the gun. He was afraid to hold it, so he shoved the barrel into one of the boots. Ken came out of the woods. He looked even more rejuvenated and refreshed.
"Ken where did you go?"
Ken held up a hand, "I needed to alleviate my bowels and let's just leave it at that, please."
The two began their trek back to the mansion. "Are you okay Ken?"
"Me?" Ken scoffed walking behind. "What about you? You know I wasn't the only one wh—"
Uncle T was sitting on the steps hand folded in prayer with tears running down his eyes. When he spotted Trevor, he was a gasp but upon realizing Marc was with him he leapt off the steps and took his nephew in a hug.
Uncle T lifted Marc off the ground. Marc felt his own tears run down his face on to uncle T. When he was back on the ground Uncle T held Marc's face between his hands. "I thought I'd never see you again."
Uncle T helped the two boys in. "I wanted to go looking for you, but I had no idea where to start. Then I realized that man could have driven you somewhere to kill you." The three walked through the main hall
"I'm fine Uncle T... mostly, but how did you know I was in danger." The three entered the dining hall where Trevor sat with only a towel around his waist. He had also grown except most of his growth was in sheer bulk than Ken's height.
"Trevor what happened to you?"
Trevor got up and wrapped Marc in a hug.
Uncle T answered, "I found him this morning...Well Ayden found me. That's when Trevor told me he had eaten Javier and that Ken had taken off after you because Weston was threating your life with a gun."
Uncle T pulled out a chair "We should sit and talk boys." Marc explained everything. He started with the fact he went to help Ayden get milked. From there Marc went into the conversation Javier had and when Weston threated him with a gun. He ended the story with Ken devouring Weston.
Uncle T hid his expressions well, only assuring Marc was okay getting through the story.
"What happens now?" Ken asked.
Uncle T breathed in, "You guys swallowed two people. We can't keep that a secret." Uncle T rubbed his chin, "But maybe we can control the narrative and when it come out."
"What do you mean? Marc said looking up.
Uncle T was formulating a plan, "My sister told me they invited you all back to the city for a few days. That's when will do it, I notify the authorities and get this sorted." Uncle T put his hands on the table. "Until then you guys keep your heads down and stay out of trouble."
After there conversation Marc sloughed upstairs alone. Ken and Trevor need their own private time two. Marc collapsed onto his bed, he was mentally drained, but that wouldn't grant sleep. He had a secret he couldn't tell anyone, but there was one person he had to tell. Marc grabbed his phone and dialed a number.
"Hello?"
"Hey Heather, can I tell you something?"