Stables

Stables


My first encounter with a monster girl was terrifying, but exciting. I can't think of a more honest way to describe it. I grew up on my parents’ farm for the entire 18 years of my life, and I'd been homeschooled the whole time, so I'd only seen monster girls on TV or on the internet buried in anonymous message boards.

I hadn't seen that many human girls, either, for that matter. Aside from the occasional work acquaintances' daughters stopping my and peeking at me from behind their parents' backs, or the occasional saleswoman trying to pedal some overpriced "specialty" harvesting equipment. Even the latter wasn't super interested in looking at me, and dealt mostly with my parents. The point of me saying this, honestly, is to explain why my confidence with females of any variety was at an all-time low.

… Hell. If Mom had a female cat, I'm sure even she would glare at me and hiss, and scamper off.

I trotted down to the barn with a pail in hand. I had to stop part way and put the pail down, adjust the cap keeping the blistering Summer sun out of my eyes. Some of the sprinklers had broken down, and I needed to fix them up quick before the wheat turned to ash. But before that, I had to tend to the Holstaur.

A few minutes later I reached the barn doors, and they parted with a loud, slow, spine-tingling groan.

The inside of the barn smelled like hay, fertilizer, and rust. The tufts of hay crunched under my boots, splintering the complete and utter silence inside the barn. I remember it being a lot noisier than this--so where had all that sound gone?

"Hello?" I cupped my hands over my mouth and called out. In hindsight, I'm not sure what I would've expected.

I took several more steps, and stopped in my tracks when I saw the monster I'd been looking for.

A woman with the horns,  lower body and patches of fur on her lower abdomen like you'd expect from a cow was resting on a blanket that someone had laid on a big pile of hay. Mom or Dad, I guessed. Her animal features looked surprisingly soft from a distance, not coarse at all like you'd expect from an actual cow.

When I managed to tip toe even closer without waking her, I realized the holstaur was actually really breathtaking. Her well-kept hair dangled in front of her eyes and she had a wide smile on her pink, full lips. The lower body wasn't the type of thing I was normally into, but the soft-looking small of her mid riff and the plump breasts hanging off of her chest, looking extremely tempting and vulnerable…

No, no, no. I slapped my cheeks and steeled myself. Don't be a sexual deviant. Even if she's cute, and even if she looks mostly human, she definitely won't act like one, and to take advantage of a monster… I swallowed a hard lump in my throat.

As I was stupidly doing the internal monologuing thing, I hadn't noticed something snaking it's way over to my ankle, then making its way up my thigh. I let out an involuntary yelp and jumped back.

It was the thin, dexterous tail of the holstaur who I'd inched so close to, who was now looking at me with sleepy eyes but a sultry grin on her mouth. She looked extremely amused by my reaction.

"I'm sorry about that," I said. "I was just… uh, I just--"

The holstaur, who introduced herself as Holly a few moments later, winked at me. She had the same quiet, seductive look in her eyes.

"It's OK, sweetie," she cooed. "Boys your age have a fascination with breasts. I don't blame you for it…"

Again, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"That's right, I-I'm sorry for that…"

Holly giggled. "Oh honey, stop. You can look at my body all you want. Hmhmhm, if you want to put a hand on them and feel if they're as soft as they look…"

"I'm fine! But thank you, um…" I was totally lost for words. "I'm just here to… uh…"

"Milk me?"

"Yeah," I said. "D-dad said Holstaurs have to be milked regularly, or they'll get backed up and get sick."

"Mmmmm, that's right~” Holly arched her back, and her breasts bounced up and down. “If I didn't have a strong man milk me for all I'm worth every now and then, I'd get so backed up and I'd ache for it... It would be really, really unpleasant…"

I knew I wasn't imagining it. This level of subtext doesn't just happen on accident. There's no way a monster girl, no matter how low or high her intelligence, could make so many crude innuendos completely by accident. And what was with her licking her lips at the end of that…!?

Holly spread herself out  on the blanket for me. I pulled up my stool, and reached below her waist. She let out a soft squeal when I brushed my hand against her belly, then wandered down looking for the utters.

When I touched the soft, pink flesh of her udders, Holly let out an ecstatic shriek that made me jump.

“Oh, farm boy,” Holly leaned in. “You really know how to make an old lady feel good.”

“You’re not that old, Holly,” I muttered,focusing on wrangling the milk from one udder, then another, until the pan by her feet was full. “Y-you’re just fine…”

Holly didn’t respond in kind, but did follow up with a dozen or so delighted gasps. By the time the task was finished, and the bucket was full, Holly had been reduced to a trembling, panting mess. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and apologized for the bother, but she had a smile on her face, and looked extremely pleased with herself. So, I figured she’d just been overwhelmed by how good it must feel to be... milked?

I got to my feet and held the bucket in front of my waist, in a less-than-subtle attempt to hide any swollen extremities. Given her level of intelligence, she must’ve picked up on what I was doing right away, so the gesture was purely out of my own embarrassment.

“That’s all for now, Holly,” I slowly started to back away, and put my hand on the barn door. “I-I’ll be back to milk you again in the near future, so--”

But before I could open the barn door and make my retreat, I heard Holly call out to me:

“That’s fine, honey, but…”

I slowly rotated my head back to look at Holly, and she had the same familiar hungry look in her eyes. She stuck out her long, wet tongue, and made a tugging motion toward her mouth with her thumb and forefinger.

“Come back soon and maybe I’ll pay you back for the milking with one of my own, mm’kay?”

I proceeded to hurriedly excuse myself from the barn and shut the door behind me. I could still hear loud, amused giggling from the other side of the door as I hurried my way up the hill to my house.

Mom and Dad were sitting at the table, eating lunch. Mom was in the middle of an argument about something related to booking, but stopped when I entered with the pail in front of me. Dad lowered the fork from his mouth and frowned at.

“Oh, hey son,” he said. “Back already? Sorry I forced the milking thing on you. I…”

“No, Dad,” I held up a hand to silence him. I’m sure there must have been tears of joy in my eyes. “You don’t ever have to apologize for asking me to do that. It’s absolutely fine.”

I never did hold Holly to the “return milking” she promised. She was just a coy, lecherous holstaur who wanted to prey on the innocent heart of a vulnerable young man. I’d be lying, though, if I said I didn’t take one or two or twenty photos of Holly in her sweating, erotic state with my phone, and held onto them for future... reference.