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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: If you made it this far in the story congrats. There's, no going back for you now the end is coming up. I'm still doing good. Hope you guys are too. Anyways shoot me an email at the end of the story if you enjoy it and we can talk about it!
CH 19.
A black Nissan pulled up in front of The Watkins Farm. Marc hopped out of the driver side. Strong. Confident. Seventeen. Seventeen years old! He had done it. He got his license. Though without a car he'd still need the occasional transposition support from Heather.
He was a little disappointed no one was there to greet him. Marc's dad got out from the passenger's side and patted his son on the back. He said goodbye pulling off. As Marc made his way to the house, a scream erupted.
There was one person there to greet him. It was Weston's wife getting kicked out of the house. Two workers were carrying her arms interlocked with hers while Uncle T walked out behind them "For the last time your husband is not here. Next time we get a restraining order and the police." Uncle's T voice was cold.
Marc cautiously walked up to the commotion. He didn't want either party misdirecting their anger on him. "Marc!" uncle T's voice soften as he hugged his nephew. "When do you get back?"
"Just now." Marc pointed to the lady being held by the workers, "And she-
"Was just leaving," uncle T laughed. "What a coincidence!"
Weston's wife wasn't paying attention to either of them.
Marc stepped up to her, "Sorry about your husband." He wasn't that sorry. Weston had tried to kill him, but his wife did seem genuinely concerned he was gone.
The woman looked at Marc. She was currently pouting, but the pupils in her soft grey eyes dilated upon seeing Marc. She flipped her hair and yanked her arms from the workers. Nodding and not saying a word, she stormed off.
"She's been coming more and more, but I hope this will be the last time. She's never just walked away before." Uncle T and Marc walked back inside while the workers made sure the lady left.
"I know, Ayden's been sending me videos nonstop. I think everyone is confused as to where Weston and Javier went."
Uncle T nodded, "True and we will have to tell them, but first! What do you want for your birthday?"
"Um, I've actually thought about this. Do you think I can visit Princeton?"
"That's certainly out of left field. May I ask why?" Uncle T raised an eyebrow.
"Things between Ken, Trevor, and I got a little intense and I'd like to get some advice from and actual bullman."
"And you're okay going to ask someone who devoured another?"
Marc shrugged, "I feel like I've done a lot of growing since last summer." He pulled on his shirt, "And I don't mean my body."
"Okay then. I'll talk to Princeton and see how he feels about it." Uncle T patted Marc on the back. "But what was this `intense' situation, a fight?"
"Uh kinda," Marc said scurrying away before Uncle T could ask more. He went upstairs and put his clothes away. He had to think about his parent`s question: Did he want to go back home next summer?
Marc sat on his bed; He wasn't sure. Did he want to go home? What about Ken and Trevor? What about the situation with Weston and Javier? He'd feel like and asshole if he left everyone else to deal with it. What about the key in his right pocket? Should he just toss it?
Marc ruffled his hair. He wished heater was her. At least she'd help as a sounding board, even if it was an annoying one. Marc decided to get out his phone and call her.
A knock came at the door. Ayden was standing there with a fresh haircut and tanned skin.
"I heard you had come back." Ayden walked into the room
"Hey, Ayden what's up?"
"You don't look so happy to see me."
Marc eyes fell down, "It's not that. I was just hoping to see two other people with you."
"Ah the men of the hour or should I say Bullmen?" Ayden laughed "Anyway, Trevor is helping Ron out with the baby and I think I saw Ken hanging with Isabella."
Marc slammed his face into a pillow, "AHHHHH." He screamed if he had to hear that name one more time associated with Ken's his head would split.
"You okay?" Ayden placed a hand on Marc's shoulders.
Marc separated from the pillow, "This whole `being fine' thing after a breakup isn't working so well for me. And It'd be so much easier to hate Isabella if she wasn't so nice."
Ayden sat beside Marc on the bed, "I think even if she was mean. Who Ken chooses to date is his choice."
Marc threw his hands up, "It's just... Isabella, who is she? Where did she come from? You know?"
"She rode a bus here with other new Cowmen. Just like me, just like Dru, Sheila, and Lyla. Albeit not the same bus." Ayden replied.
"Yeah okay BUT..." Marc sighed and put the pillow back in its proper place. "I'm sorry. I must sound like such a jackass."
Ayden held up his hands, "No need to defend yourself to me. She's a very pretty girl and always smells great."
Marc sucked his teeth and slammed back onto the bed, "Ugh! I know. Her birthday cake perfume probably has Ken fawning over her."
Ayden jerked is head back, "Birthday cake? Perfume? I was just talking about her pheromones."
"I know." Marc said sedating his anger. "but you probably like her perfume to."
"Marc, let me clarify. I've never smelt any perfume from her. And what I so smell is more of a general sweet not specific like birthday cakes."
Marc sat up in his bed, "What?"
Ayden's phone started going off, " Oh shoot I was supposed to meet Xander. He's going to kill me," he hopped off the bed, waved goodbye to Marc, and ran out the room.
With everyone seemingly busy. Marc sat in his room for the rest of the day playing video games. Noon turned into night as Marc was left alone to ponder the day. He tossed a turned in his bed, his mind wouldn't let him sleep. He started counting numbers backwards till he drifted off.
Marc woke up being shaken by uncle T. "Marc get up. We're going to see Princeton."
"What time is it?" Drool leaked from the teen's lips.
"Early. Get Dressed," Uncle T walked out of the room.
Marc wasted no time, got dressed and went outside to find Uncle T. The sky was a light blue with a touch of orange. Yep, still early morning Marc nodded to himself. Uncle had started up the truck. Marc walked over and climbed inside.
The two took off. "This was fast. I thought it would take like a week."
Uncle T chuckled, "Well we had to add you to his visitors list. Which I'll be honest isn't that long. But I may have sped it along."
It took 2 hours to get to the prison. No wonder uncle T had woken him up so early. The walked into Golden Gate Prison. Marc didn't like the name. There was nothing golden about it Dark gray and browns on the surface of the whole facility. The building was hard concrete with only a few smattering or windows to break up the monotony. The building was lifeless and soul crushing.
He stepped inside to the visitor center with Uncle T. There were a lot of people waiting the area, Marc looked around. The room had a hint of life, but it was all stale with the muted blues and brown on the furniture. Uncle T and Marc were escorted to a side room that had booths. A glass dividing two sides with a telephone on either side.
The guards brought Princeton out as they undid his handcuffs. He made his way over to the booth and sat down. Marc recognized him instantly. He was the same man that had been on the news last year. Except he had grown bulkier. No doubt from eating his farmer. His new body was mostly hidden under his prison uniform, except for the top of his pecs. Uncle T join him as Marc followed standing behind. Uncle exchanged hellos and introduce Marc handing over the phone.
Marc sat down at the booth, taking uncle T's place.
"What can I do for you Marc?" Princeton gave a smile. Marc felt his heart flutter the guy was handsome, but Marc could sense a sadness in his eyes. As if this whole thing was just and act.
"I wanted to talk to you about Bullmen, if that's okay?"
Princeton nodded, "Your uncle explained to me some of the situation. What can I do for you?"
Marc braced himself and swallowed his spit. "What was it like growing up as a Bullmen?"
"Is that really what you want to ask?"
Marc shrugged, "It's a start."
"Well, unlike your two friends I learned I was a Bullmen early on. I guess it could have been a real ugly duckling story if I hadn't met Randall. I was everything people feared Bullmen to be but Randall he... he took the time and help me control those urges." Princeton got lost in a memory as he talked about the farmer.
"Did you ever meet other Bullmen?" Marc leaned in closer
"Oh yeah, when I got older," Princeton laughed. "Randall and I had a few good times with them too."
Marc took a pause before his next question. He looked over his shoulder to make sure Uncle T wasn't listening. "Between you and me did your personality change when having sex with those Bullmen."
"Definitely," Princeton nodded. "It's like this, you have two strong Alpha males in a room. They both want control. That's when our dominant side shows. Of course, that's expressed different for different Bullmen. It the pheromones though. The pheromones of another Bullmen that does it."
"How do you stop it?" Marc asked.
"You can't. It's a part of who they are." Marc was about to speak when Princeton out up his hand, "But it's not all they are. Underneath all that bravado and manliness. Let me guess, were they fighting over you?"
Marc crossed his legs, rocking back and forth "Hmm, I think it was more like they wanted me to be obedient."
"Interesting. You know human threesomes with Bullmen usually play out 3 ways, One Bullmen fucks everyone to dominate them. Two the Bullmen fuck the human, but not each other; Neither willing two submit. Option Three rarest of all everyone submits and gets fucked."
"How about option four, the human fucks both Bullmen. Or five, the human fucks the Bullmen and gets fucked, but no one submits."
Princeton let out a chuckle, "I like you Marc. That's some nice kind of thinking." Princeton's eyes hardened, "But this is Bullmen we're talking about. Domination is always involved, which means so is submission. If a Bullmen gives themselves to you that means they are submitting."
Marc nodded his head, "Okay but no one actually got, you know." He was finding it hard to discuss the specifics of his sexual escapades with an adult. Although it was easier to tell a stranger than his Uncle, or god forbid, his parents.
"No, one got penetrated?" Princeton answered.
Marc nodded. Princeton rolled his tongue in his cheeks resting his head in his right palm. "There could be a multitude of reasons for that. They don't want the other to dominate you in that way. Or maybe they just really like you and held themselves back? Could be both." Princeton shrugged.
"I'm sorry if this is too personal, but did Farmer Randall ever D-dominate you?"
Princeton grew a goofy grin, "All the time. Like I said we Bullmen can get dominate, but we're still ourselves I love-" Princeton caught himself, "loved Randall more than anything. He just had to get my dominant side to accept he could be in charge too. That there was a sharing of the power."
"How'd he do that?"
"Well we had sex a lot, normally. I mean even without my dominant side as a Bullmen I hated bottoming. I had a compulsion to be on top. We worked past that. Then the threesomes started to help us control that other side of me. Of course, it evolved into a good time, but once some Bullmen saw that I could be submissive they eased up too. Though there was one I had to dominate while Randall was inside me to get it through that bullman's thick skull."
Marc leaned back, "Basically if I want to have normal sex, I have to train them?"
"Don't say it so sadly. You should enjoy the journey. It might even be fun. Tie them up and see what happens," Princeton winked.
A naked Ken and Trevor each tied up in his bed flashed through is mind. His cock twitched. "I see," he mummed. He was done with his questions, but he didn't want to be inconsiderate, so he decided to ask more about Princeton.
"How are you holding up here?" Marc asked
Princeton shrugged, "It's terrible, but I can get a lot of things form the other inmates if I let them smell me when I'm horny."
"Smell you?"
Princeton shrugged, "Apparently I smell like the beach to humans. Around here that's a thing people wished they had. If they're lucky they might get a drop of milk. Most of my milk is confiscated though. Wouldn't want inmates hulking out, would we?"
"Okay and mentally how are you doing. I mean eating a person can't be easy on you."
"It's not," Princeton looked off to his side. "but to me honest it's more about who it was and how it was done, rather than the fact I did it."
"How it was done."
Princeton sighed , "I'm sure it was some employees getting revenge because I heard something I wasn't supposed to."
"What did you hear?"
Princeton leaned closer to the glass, "Bullmen aren't randomly born now, their birth can be ensured."
Marc got confused look on his face. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know," Princeton rubbed his head. " I was by the refrigeration unit and my hearing is pretty good, so I picked up on it. I only wanted to see if someone was stealing milk, Randall had mentioned it, so I took notice. I walked into confront the people."
"Wait, people stealing milk? Was either of them named Weston, or Javier?"
Princeton shook his head, "No, it was two women. I went to confront them. And let me tell you, the one that had said that phrase shot me the meanest glare. She was a real ball buster on the farm even to me." Princeton shook his head. "Someone must have come up behind me because next thing I know there's a needle in my neck, but I never even heard them. When I woke up people were forcing Randall inside me, I couldn't fight back because of the drugs. My mouth kept opening for him." Princeton banged his hand on the glass. "Shit! if only I went to tell Randall straight away."
The guards moved closer.
"Shoot, sorry kid. Looks like that's my time." The guards got him up and handcuffed him escorting him out of the room.
Uncle T came over, "Everything alright?"
Marc nodded. The two left the building and got into their truck pulling of onto the road.
"Did you know people were stealing milk on Randall's farm?" Marc asked.
"He mentioned it once or twice. And before you ask, I got curious about Javier and Weston too and did a check. They never worked there."
" Okay, but isn't it strange, the person that found them is imprisoned? It's a classic frame the witness."
"If he was framed." Uncle T said keeping his eyes on the road.
"You don't believe him?"
"I don't know what to believe Marc. Princeton was never a liar, but the people he claimed did this were never found. No drugs were found in his system like he claimed. The only thing I do know is that one of my closest friends is gone."
Marc decided not to say anything else. His uncle had a lot going on. Marc's mind was racing to he had a foundation to handle being with Trevor, Ken, or both. Now Ken wouldn't have to worry about all that harming a human garbage. One phrase kept popping up in Marc's mind the whole way back "Bullmen aren't randomly born now, their birth can be ensured." Marc muddled it over. The Bullmen were a subspecies of Cowmen based on genetics how could someone ensure their birth?
The two pulled up to the house and into the garage. Before Marc could hop out Uncle T handed him the car keys.
"What are these for?" Marc stared at the keys.
"You didn't think I was just going to give to a ride to a prison as your gift, did you?"
Marc's face lit up as he wrapped his uncle in a hug. "Thank you!"
Uncle T calmed down his nephew, "Now this is only while you're at the farm. At least until your parents get you your own car."
A thought popped into his head. "Can I go somewhere now?"
"Sure, but we just got back. Don't you want to rest?"
"I do, but I have something important to do."
"You have to gloat to Heather huh?" Uncle T chucked.
"Something like that." Marc smiled as Uncle T left. Marc sent out a text as he walked over into the driver's seat. He waited for 5 minutes until Trevor showed up. He burst into the garage; his hair was a mess. " Marc what's wrong?"
"Get in we're going to Milkem."
Trevor did exactly that getting in immediately as the car pulled off. It took a few extra minutes due to Marc getting lost, but they found their way back to Milkem.
As they parked Marc said, "Sorry, about the detour, Heather drove here last time." But Trevor didn't answer. He had his gazed fixed on the building in front of him.
"My dad's in there?" Trevor said breathlessly.
"Uh, we don't know that, that picture could have been taken somewhere else." He unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door, "but I figure can't hurt to ask."
The two boys made their way to the main mansion. Trevor was transfixed by the giant eggs on either side. Though as they got to the door there were Two security guards standing there. Two very tall, broad shouldered white men. They had batons, flashlights, and pepper spray. Mr. Karter was telling the truth about no firearms on the premises.
"Stop," The guard on the left held his hand out. The two boys froze. "Milkem isn't open to the public right now."
The guard on the right spoke, "Come back in two weeks. That's when the summer tours start. You'll be able to come any day at any time from 8am-5pm and get a tour."
Trevor didn't have time for their rehearsed speech he stepped forward as the two guards put out their baton's forming an X. Trevor rolled his eyes stepping forward, but Marc grabbed his arm. There was something off about the batons.
"Good choice," the guard on the left said. He hit a button ad his baton lit up coursing with electricity as his partner did the same. Marc stared on at the blue glow that was emitted from the weapons.
"Think of these as huge bug zappers, only for trespassers," the guard on the right stated.
Marc stood in front of Trevor, blocking him from doing something stupid. "My friend here is a Cowmen and has some questions for Mr. Karter that's all.
"You think you can just walk in and talk to the CEO. Mr. Karter is a busy man. Come to a tour or schedule an appointment.
Marc sighed, He knew Trevor was not going to turn around and go home. He needed to think of something that would be worth Mr. Karter's time.
"Tell Mr. Karter I'm hear representing the Watkins Farm. I'm Farmer Tyrone's nephew. We have something urgent to tell him."
One of the guards stepped down the steps and turned off his electric baton. "Okay kid. I'll entertain this. Only because I want to see how badly it blows up in your face. " He stuck out his hand.
Marc looked at it curiously.
"ID! Kid, come on!" The guard shouted.
Marc dug into his wallet and handed his ID over. The Guard looked it over than disappeared inside the mansion with it. 10 mins went by before the officer stepped back out. He shot his partner a confused look.
"Mr. Karter would like to see you."
"What?!" The guard on the right said.
Marc got his ID back as him and Trevor stepped into Milkem. The guard told them Mr. Karter's office was upstairs on the right. Trevor gave the guards the middle finger as Marc pulled him inside. The place was deserted no cowmen servers whatsoever. Just a beautiful atrium with an amazing view of the plains. Now that the was done with the guards Trevor's mind was back to its original mission. Trevor told Marc to "move it!" as they went to find Mr. Karter.
They knocked on Mr. Karter's door. He welcomed them in, "Please, please have a seat."
"Wow, Mr. Ellis it is good to see you again. Looks like you've been working out since last summer." Mr. Karter winked.
The boys sat down across from, Mr. Karter's desk. "Thank you for inviting us in," Marc said, "Where is everyone?"
"Oh, you mean?" Mr. Karter gestured towards the Main Hall. "That's just a room for when we have guests. The real work goes on in our milking and breeding stations."
"So, the main hall is only used for show?" Marc said surprised. Trevor was scratching at the arm of his chair. He was damaging the upholstery.
"I hear you have something to tell me," Mr. Karter turned his full attention towards Marc.
"Yes—
"Is my dad here?" Trevor cut in.
"What?" Mr. Karter asked surprised at the sudden outburst.
Marc did a mental face palm.
"I saw a picture of my dad here and I was wondering if he was here now?"
"That depends, where did you see this picture?"
"I don't know, a friend sent it to me."
"Well if we don't have a photo I can't—
"Here!" Trevor pulled out his own phone with the image of his dad on it. Marc wasn't sure if he was shocked by Trevor's current actions, or the fact he had sent himself the photo.
Mr. Karter took the phone looking at it. He nodded his head, "I don't know how your friend got this, but you're right this is a company event, I recognize the background, but alas I can't help you."
"Why not!" Trevor took back his phone.
"I don't know if you recall, but Milkem had a former parent company it was through them we hosted all our parties and such. Now Milkem is a separate, but still sizable faction." He said digging into his desk and pulling out a file. "We participate in many events that photo could have been taken at anyone of them." He slammed the files onto the desk here is a collection of all the events we've hosted in that hall. The list of employees, caterers, DJ and other hired hands that attended."
Trevor reached for the file, but Marc caught his hand. "What about Cowmen? The Cowmen here told me before they don't work here, they volunteer."
Mr. Karter smirked, "Those aren't our files to keep. We do take attendance, but then we send it back to those farms."
"Then these documents are useless to me!" Trevor pushed the files back.
"Now hold on," Mr. Karter said. "If your dad is an employee then it's not useless. Why would anyone assume your dad is a Cowmen, that doesn't live on the same farm with you?"
A fair point, but Trevor wasn't too pleased by it.
"Were you born on the Watkins Farm?" Mr. Karter asked.
Trevor arched an eyebrow, "You've asked me that before, why do you care?"
Mr. Karter waved his hand "The first time I was being nosey. This time it's to help."
"While still being nosey," Trevor cut back.
Mr. Karter ignored him, "If this is a case of separated families all you have to do is get in contact with your previous farm to see where your parents went,"
"That's not possible." Trevor said.
"Why?"
"The farmers moved to Aruba." Trevor lied without missing a beat.
"Is that so?" Mr. Karter clasped his hands together, "Good for them. But Farmer Tyrone is resourceful I'm sure he could help and if not."
Mr. Karter pulled attendance lists from the file, stuffed them into a new folder and slid it over, "Now I hear you have some valuable information for me."
Marc took a deep breath he was going to do the thing Uncle T warned them against. "Someone has been stealing our milk, we recently learned the same was true for the Howard Farm before you bought it. Chances are they're going to come after you too." Marc didn't say it, but with the wealth they flaunted, Milkem had a giant target on their backs.
Mr. Karter folded his hands together, elbows rested on the desk He was in deep thought. "Thank you for your concern neighbors, but we have the best security."
"That's usually the thing dumb rich people say before they lose everything." Trevor retorted. Marc had to admit he was thinking the same thing.
Mr. Karter's friendly demeanor became serious, "If anyone tries to steal from us. They better be ready to pay the ultimate price."
Marc and Trevor looked at each other.
"You may go." Mr. Karter waved them off.
The boys walked out the room. Marc shut the door behind them offended at how they'd been dismissed they walked down the hallway to the stairs.
"I can't believe he has that much hubris." Marc spat.
"Yep." Trevor said clutching onto the employee attendance lists he received. "These guys are screwed with a CEO like that. A year from now the story will be milk stations at Milkem emptied overnight."
Marc let out a laugh.
The two came out the mansion doors into a fading afternoon. They could hear crows crying in the distance.
"Hope you enjoyed your stay. Please feel free to come back for the Summer tours." A guard said closing the doors.
Trevor turned around to face both guards, "Do you guys know how many Cowmen work for your company?"
The two guards looked at each other. One shrugged the other mouthed "I don't know." They turned back to Trevor the guard on the right spoke. "We just work front door security we don't know what goes on inside the eggs. But we also don't know any Cowmen that do front door security either."
Trevor nodded, "Thank you, have a nice day."
The two got inside of the truck. Marc let out a sigh. They were only going to ask question, but why did it feel so hostile? Trevor on the other had was deep in though. Marc leaned over and kissed him on the cheek."
"What was that for?" Trevor touched his cheek where Marc kissed, unable to hide a slight smile.
"For not attacking anyone, there was a moment there I thought you were going to lose it. I think I would have if I were you." Marc pulled the car off.
When they got home there was barely any afternoon light left. Marc pulled into garage spotting Ken sitting the steps of the house. As the two got out. Ken made his way over.
He ran up and gave Marc a hug, "I'm glad you're okay."
"Ken what are you doing out—
"I texted him." Trevor said. "I told him to meet us."
"How did it go?" Ken asked looking between the two boys.
"Honestly like a dead end." Trevor leaned against the truck.
"You don't think they knew anything?" Ken asked.
"Oh, they know something, but they aren't going to help me finding it out." Trevor kicked a pebble and watched as it tumbled forward. Marc was decided it was best to stay quiet and let Trevor vent.
"Though Karma is a bitch, they probably won't be a company for much longer."
"Why's that?" Ken said, getting Marc to lean in the truck with him.
"That Mr. Karter guy is going to get all their milk stolen. Can't wait for the day."
"With weapons like those though." Marc said. His mind fixated on those electric batons.
"Who needs that when you got weapons like these," Trevor flexed. "Ken make a muscle." Ken did the same. "Go ahead feel them."
Marc reached his hands to feel his charges muscles, "Oh these are strong." He joked. "Thieves better watch out."
"Damn straight," Trevor laughed.
Marc loved the jovial atmosphere and played into it, but his mind was swimming. Those weapons Milkem hadn't could just be bought at the store. No matter how physically strong they were Marc didn't want to imagine them facing those weapons. Heck, he didn't want to face those weapons, or anyone he knew to face them.
Marc silently prayed that life to get a bit saner.