Regency: A Hucow Story

The grand hall fell silent as Mord stepped up to the twin thrones. Gathered behind him, the remainder of the aristocracy watched as the last bit for their world collapsed around them. The masked soldiers held sabers at the ready. On the whim of their master, they would start the slaughter again. Mord proceeded without a thought given to those aching with fatigue who had won the war for him or those huddled in fear at the sight of the usurper. His eyes roved over the ornate chairs, admiring the jewels set into the golden arms. Stretching out his fingers, he traced the outline of the Barthon crest and anger flared in his heart one again. A cold, steel voice choked its way up his parched throat, “Bring them.”

As though his command had slithered through the mind of everyone in the room, they all winced and turned to look at the two doors at the far end of the court. They opened and a pair of masked soldiers dragged in two captives. The onlookers gasped. One even wailed, which earned her a swift kick in the back from a guard. The first prisoner did not struggle, but let himself be carried along as limp as a dishrag. The other, her beauty not the least bit diminished by her plight, kicked and wriggled in vain against her captivity. The soldiers brought them to the foot of the throne dais and pushed them to their knees. The man let his head sink and dared not look up. The woman stared defiantly, at long last seeing with her own eyes a man she had long hated.

Mord took a seat in the right chair, though without a hint pleasure. He folded his hands in his lap as though politely waiting for a servant to offer him a refreshment, but his eyes flickered with hunger as he looked down at the two forced to kneel before him. “His Royal Highness King Richard Barthon and his wife, the Queen, her Royal Majesty Elena Barthon, formerly of House Jerta. I believe those are your official titles. I am Mord.”

“You’re a fraud. A serpent. Devil!” the queen shouted back. If her words inspired anger in Mord or his henchmen, none showed it, but the nobles gathered to watch the spectacle had often quailed at the sound of their queen’s anger and felt that fear once again, even with knives at their backs.

“A fraud?” Mord answered, turning the word over in his mind. “The people cried out for a savior. Too long had they suffered while others prospered. The men and women in this room are healthy and even fat while children starved. These vile creatures ordered men to work till the skin sloughed off their bones. They toiled in fields surrounded by wheat while their bellies went empty. And the lords offered the charity of sport and drink, appealing to the base nature of men that finds solace in distraction. Would you like to know my favorite story? It concerns your good and loyal friend, the Duke of Kellig. He wanted a castle fit to rival the stones beneath our feet. If he could not have the lush lands of his neighbor to east or the game filled forests of the neighbor to the west, then he would build a stronghold from which he could conquer either. And so he set about his work, with your permission and your purse backing him so long as he remained loyal to the crown. The walls grew taller, and it became difficult for men to climb them. So he conscripted children. Old enough to work the mortar, yet young enough to be dexterous.” Mord paused. The room echoed with his voice. An electric feeling spread through the air, and the soldiers backed away from their wards. “They would fall. Mothers prayed for the fall to kill them, for surviving was worse. Funerals delayed construction and, with whip in his hand, the Duke ordered the bones interred in his walls. Fathers laid stones on top of their own children and wailed in grief.”

The queen’s anger faltered while the king’s eyes remained downcast. “We did not know,” she whispered.

“How many did you send to their deaths to defend that butcher’s holdings?” Mord pressed. His words twisted in the queen’s gut. “You told them they died for the honor of their queen. Your beauty assuaged their fears. Your kiss upon their cheek bolstered their courage. And they died upon the swords of grim men who know no emotion, for their souls are interred in the walls of razed keeps. A generation lost to your greed. The latest in a series of generations broken under the weight of the Barton line’s rule. No longer will your people be slaughtered like cattle for the whims of the few in this room brazen enough to hold themselves in higher regard than any other.”

“You mean to kill us then? Parade us out in some jumped up trial so your band of degenerates and thieves can mock us, spit on us, and revel when our heads are in baskets? We won’t give you the satisfaction of seeing us beg.” The queen’s resolve rippled through the room, a warm breeze to fight back the cold of Mord’s presence.

“I have a better use for you than that, my lady. You have robbed the lands of their children. You will give them back.”

Finally, Richard looked up and met the gaze of the man who had so easily defeated him. “You wouldn’t dare! Not even you would use such magics. You were a man once! Pity must still exist within that husk.”

“Calm yourself, King Barton,” Mord reclined from his stiff position, allowing himself to drape across the throne as if he were nothing more than a discarded shawl. “It is not what you fear. Nature should not be twisted, but I think of it as a course correction. Your actions have bent and broken the world for too long. We must take drastic steps to remedy the situation. I think that the ladies of the court, even Her Majesty the Queen, will agree. And do not fret, Richard, even you have a place in this.” He clapped his hands. The sound thundered through the room. “Let’s begin. First, all titles and holdings are revoked.” Another few wails of dismay rose from the crowd, but Mord ignored them. “Any man or woman who carried a title is now, by decree, committed to the role of a slave.” A few more gasps as the slightest hint of a smile toyed at the corners of Mord’s lips. “The women shall be used as breeding stock. While the men will mostly be used as labor, but with some added punishment.” Finally one of the nobles stood and tried to overpower a guard. He was quickly rewarded with a boot to the gut and a crack to the back of his head. “Do not fear, I am merciful. You will all understand very soon.”

Mord knelt down between the two thrones. “Bring her forward, just here.” He pointed to a spot directly in front of him. The queen glared at him as the guard forced her down onto the lush carpet. “Would you like to undress now? Or have it break as your body transforms?”

“No! Monster!” The king yelled before his handler quieted him.

“What are you talking about?” Elena asked, for the first time feeling afraid.

Mord’s placid face looked back at her. “You have lived the life of a queen. Your body is beautiful, but frail and weak. You must be hardier stock if you’re to be a brood mother to a new generation. Besides, the men outside, the men of the land, they have respect for beauty. It inspires awe and reverence. What they need is something to fuck. I intend to mold you into that. So I ask again, would you like to undress now or have your pretty dress ruined as you change.”

“I would not give you the pleasure, you deviant.”

“So be it.” Mord adjusted his position slightly. His hands stretched out to either side as he dropped his head forward. He began to mutter under his breath, and the room grew colder.

The queen had heard tales of his magic from her servants, but Richard had always forbidden her any direct knowledge. She’d learned of the masked soldiers which marched and fought on empty stomachs without sleep or rest, as if driven by the will of the infernal pit itself. She’d been told stories of her generals bent and twisted into beasts of burden. She’d seen the fear in her husband’s eyes as Mord’s army cut through their defenses. Richard had never once feared a battle, whether with man or beast, but Mord’s name alone was enough to unnerve him. Richard had not stood bravely upon the parapets of the keep as Mord approached, defying him until the last breath as he would any other man. Instead, the king had scurried into the tunnels below the city with his wife dragged along by the wrist. Along those dark passages, the name followed them as if whispered from the stones around them. Mord.

They passed beggars who looked up at them with white eyes and gaunt faces, yet a name trembled on their lips. Mord. The name hounded them and yet loomed in front of them. Halfway through the dark tunnels, the queen stopped resisting for she knew in her bones that they were escaping nothing. Her husband clomped forward, a trapped rat running straight into the jaws of the cat. They neared the exit and their guard readied for a fight, but none came as the passage continued to wind and twist. They all could feel the hopelessness of it. Walls curved that should have been straight. They marched for an hour and yet felt as if they’d gone inches. When finally they reached the exit, Elena saw the familiar flicker of torchlight against the pantry wall and not the shine of a smoke obscured sun. They stepped into the pantry to find Mord himself sitting, much as he sat in front of them now, whispering his dark words. The guards tried to resist, but they were slain with ease by the faceless soldiers. Richard crumpled to his knees and remained there like the craven fool he had become. Elena’s heart overflowed with rage, but the smallest thought of admiration crossed her mind as she looked at the dark wizard. He had not torn the castle asunder, peeling stone from stone to find the fleeing king and queen. He’d changed a slight bit of wind and perhaps darkened one path instead of the other to lead them right back to him. Right back to his ritual.

Elena sneered at him. Mord’s chant was indecipherable, yet she could sense whatever power he commanded gathering around him. The flames lighting the hall dimmed and whispers from inhuman voices filled the air. His eyes opened. Blood red orbs gazed back at her. She gasped. The coalescing energy rushed into her, almost knocking her back. Her breath caught in her lungs as she felt something akin to worms wriggling into her skin. She wanted to shriek, yet only a small whimper escaped. Her vision blurred, and the wriggling sensation vanished. In its place a warmth began to spread over her skin, as though she were sliding into a hot bath after a long day’s ride. She relaxed, letting her breath ease out in a long sigh. The seconds ticked by. In each she forgot a thousand names and a hundred places as she soaked in the warmth of her own body. Breathing became harder once again. Annoyed, she looked down to see her chest straining against the bodice that had moments before been loose on her thin frame. Her hands moved languidly to the laces up her back and fumbled to untie them. She knew someone should help her. A queen was above such menial tasks as dressing or undressing, but she saw no servants around her, only the shadow. The pressure kept building, and she moaned in pain. Beneath her meager clothes, she could feel her nipples pressing against the constraining fabric. Breathing grew even more difficult, and she panicked that she would soon choke to death.

Elena was not the only one caught in rapturous self reflection. The other women in the room had swooned or bent as they felt the same things as their queen. Few of them were so sophisticated in their dress and stripped from their garments easily. Their husbands watched in fear and confusion as their wives peeled out of their bodices and shifts revealing bodies unfamiliar to those who had once known them. The masked soldiers maintained their ring with weapons at the ready, but otherwise showed no sign of acknowledgment of the bizarre changes taking place. Except one, who stepped forward, put the tip of his sword against the laces of Elena’s dress, and ran the blade quickly up her back.

The queen sucked in air and felt her chest push out freely. Though her dress had loosened, it had not fallen away completely. She briefly thought of the nobles behind her, unaware they were too distracted by their own misfortunes, and wondered if any of them relished seeing their queen brought to her knees like a common whore. She imagined the shrewd gaze of the squabbling courtiers oogling her exposed back and the sides of her breasts, but instead of anger or revulsion, she felt a twinge of arousal course through her body. Her breasts pushed against the torn dress insistently. She knew they’d changed, but not how. She pulled at her sleeves and the dress fell apart easily, leaving her naked from the waist up. She leaned back on her heels to examine her body and gasped as she looked down. Where there had once been a pair of modest, pert breasts now loomed two massive orbs bigger than any wet nurse she’d ever seen. And wet nurse fit they certainly were. Her nipples had thickened and grown longer, jutting out as dark brown nubs from the sea of lily white flesh around them. She suppressed the urge to pull at them or to squeeze them. She doubted she’d have been able to resist if the next pain had not drawn her attention.

The room was no longer silent. Richard looked from his wife to the writhing women behind him. He cursed Mord and himself for the lewd display. The shame of seeing his wife, the Queen, writhe in pleasure as her body changed from a lithe woman to that of a swollen, ox-like whore almost overcame him. He considered charging like a madman into the nearest blade. At least if he impaled himself, he would be remembered as a martyr instead of whatever monster Mord would turn him into. He’d seen the magician’s work before. Sensible men with good educations and good breeding turned into half men. Abominations better slain than allowed to persist. Richard hoped that someone would remain to put him out of his own miserable existence, even if he lacked the courage to do so.

His gaze returned to his wife as she wriggled out of the remains of her dress. He could see her massive breasts swinging from her chest like the udders of a cow. Part of him wanted to crawl under her and latch onto her engorged nipples with his lips. Perhaps had she given him a son, then he would have done just that. She had always been a willing wife, perhaps too willing. She seemed to be enjoying her sudden freedom of expression more than the other ladies in the room. They retained their decency long enough to be appalled at their changes. All the women he’d known for years, many of them well past their prime, now reveled in bodies fit for little more than animalistic rutting. The women all shared similar traits. Their breasts were engorged almost to the point of absurdity, some larger than a man’s head. Their stomachs were lean and muscular while their hips flared out into a pleasing hourglass shape to support the sizable rumps that wiggled behind them. As Richard felt the wriggling sensation start to pervade his skin, he looking longingly at Elena as she pulled down her dress, exposing a big round ass. His last clear thought was of pure lust, wanting nothing more than to mount her like a bull claiming a prize.

Elena felt suddenly free, as if ropes which had been binding her through her entire life suddenly snapped free. She pulled the dress down over her wide hips and felt the cool air caress her bare ass. She felt the eyes of her people and servants staring at her exposed bottom. She knew they could see her engorged pussy glistening with arousal. She knew and loved it. She wanted them to take her. She wanted to feel the rough hands of the servants she’d order around for years as they pushed her to the ground and pulled apart her ass cheeks to shove their stiff cocks deep inside of her. She ached for their touch. Her loins burned with desire, and she could feel the pulse of need in her breasts. Finally composed enough to turn and face her people, she discovered a sight much different than she expected.

Like her the women had succumbed to Mord’s spell. They had cast away their clothes as a uniformity of youth and fertility possessed their forms. Each of them bore the happy, dumb look of a cow ready for breeding. Some vainly prostrated themselves in hopes their wishes would be granted. Instead, others took advantage of the offered sexes, delving their tongues into the newly smooth and swollen pussies. Elena did not gasp at this lurid sight. Somehow she had expected it and was at the very least grateful that the ladies’ tongues were finally being put to some use other than gossip.

The men had not escaped. Though they had the misfortune of watching their wives transform before their own changes took place, Elena could see now that they had been blessed in an entirely different fashion. A few managed to take off their shirts and doublets before the changes started, but not Richard. His clothes fell away in tatters as his bulky form ripped through both his shirt and pants. Elena felt her pussy quiver with desire as she watched the creature her husband had become contort in a mix of ecstasy and agony. Muscle grew across his body, creating huge veiny bulges in his skin. His shoulders widened as he grew taller, but the real change came elsewhere. At the center of his newly muscular body, Elena saw a great change taking place in her husband’s manhood. Her eyes flitted nervously to the other men, and she grew flushed as she realized they were all changing similarly. A few were farther along. Her mouth watered in anticipation of her husband’s own gift.

She had only known one man in her life, but had seen others from time to time. Servants or slaves could be found entirely undressed as she meandered through the castle corridors knowing precisely where to look with a wandering eye. Richard’s cock had been average. She’d seen none larger but one, a visiting valet that she discovered fucking a kitchen maid late one evening. She’d watched quietly from the corner until they’d finished and taken great glee in dismissing the maid and reporting the valet to his master. Yet she had not forgotten the size and shape of that man’s cock and thought about it more often than Richard would have liked, which is to say at all. That long held fantasy fizzled into forgotten memory as she crawled towards Richards hunched form.

Richard arched back with a groan. He thought he’d felt pain before, but it was nothing compared to this. The bones of his body snapped and reformed only to snap again. His skin felt as though hot needles were being raked across it. And through it all, he couldn’t ignore the smell. It pervaded his mind and filled him with an angry lust. He knew it as much as he knew the taste of water or the feel of his wind. He could smell the women all around him, and it threatened to drive him mad. His tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth as he tried to curse Mord once more. He wondered if he’d ever be able to speak again. Stretching his new body, he noticed the change to his manhood.

The cock he’d know his whole life was no more. In its place grew an angry and hard rod, thick and pulsing as a glistening clear fluid oozed ceaselessly from the tip. Unable to resist, he lowered his hand to the swollen shaft and began to stroke. The smell filled his lungs yet again, and he longed for the feeling of a hot cunt around him. He noticed the skin around his cock had darkened and grown thicker, almost leathery. His hand moved down past the engorged member and cupped a pair of balls that would put a prize bull to shame. They felt heavy, and he knew why. He’d never considered what it would feel like to have balls so full of cum that they ached or even that it was possible to have such a feeling at all, but in that moment he understood it perfectly. He turned his gaze to the upturned ass of his wife, the queen, who had become the prize breeding cow he’d always secretly wanted.

The room heaved with swollen potential. The crowd that had minutes before been the lords and nobles of the land was now an unholy amalgamation of sex and lust. The men were growing used to their new, hulking forms and the women were wet and desperate for the swollen cocks of their former husbands. Still, they all swayed in the throes of their changes. Mord’s whispers stopped. The blood red color drained from his eyes, and he surveyed his work. He uttered one final word, “Sleep.” It traveled through the room like an arrow, and as it passed, the word pushed each and every one of the changed men and women into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Mord stood up and turned to one of his men. “You will find the stables changed. They have been remade into accommodations for the king, queen, and their loyal subjects.” He stepped forward and bent down to turn the sleeping queen’s cheek to the light. “Still beautiful,” he murmured. “Quickly, we have other work to do.”

Wake.

The world swirled back into view. Elena struggled to remember what happened, but her immediate problems pushed the search for memory aside. She felt the chafe of a collar around her neck. As she moved, she heard and felt the weight of the attached chain. She was still naked and lying in a bed of soft blankets laid over clean hay. Her body was refreshed and energetic, but her breasts ached from a tense pressure. Eager to alleviate it, she brought her hand up and massaged the massive orbs. Immediately she felt the trickle of milk oozing from her fat nipple. It brought a smile to her face. Others around her stirred. On either side of her, other women with similar bodies roused from deep slumber. The woman to her right smiled at the sight of Elena milking herself and mimicked her, while the woman to her left took a more practical approach. In their small areas waited a pail and a small curved stool. The woman to Elena’s right discovered its use, and Elena quickly moved to the same position.

She put her stomach on the stool and reached forward with her arms to hold the bar that she was chained to. Her breasts dangled over the pail while her ass stuck up in the air. A perfect position for milking and fucking, she thought. She looked across the stable to the other side and gasped. The men were chained up as well. Memories of Mord’s spell rushed back as her eyes looked greedily down at the swollen manhoods all arrayed in a long line against the far wall. Richard was opposite of her, and she longed desperately to be close to him. He too had a collar around his neck, but higher up so he could stand and move freely. Despite that, the men had their hands bound and from the look of their inflamed and oozing cocks, Elena thought it was to keep them from pleasuring themselves. Elena had no such restriction and took advantage of that as quickly as she could. She milked her right breast, massaging and squeezing until a steady stream of milk sprayed into the pail beneath her. The women all along her side did the same, unwittingly following the lead of their queen, and moaning all the while.

Is this what is to become of us? Richard tied up and tortured by the sight of us? We women left here in frustration to milk ourselves until the last of our minds burn away? No, something more wicked is still to come.

As if she had summoned him, a door opened at the far end of the stable, and a man stepped inside. He walked along behind the women until he reached Elena and then moved in front of her. The first thing she noticed was the obvious bulge in his pants, but then her eyes turned up to see a handsome, youthful face. “By the gods, I didn’t think it was true. Look at what’s been done to you, your majesty!”

Her old title subdued her desires for a moment. “Are…are you here to help us?”

The man laughed. “I suppose, in a way. Mord named me keeper of the stables. Course that don’t mean what it used to. Before the war, I worked the stables for Lord Mallory. I think I see him down there, actually. Gods, look at the men, too. Ah, fuck, not supposed to call them that anymore. Bulls. And cows, like yourself.”

“How dare you speak to me like that?” she tried to speak with a commanding voice, but it came out as a quiet whimper.

“I’ll speak to you how I like. Your twat’s turned up in the air, and your tits are leaking. You’ve got enough juice running to slide in with ease. Same as every other one of you former ladies. Looks like you’re gaggin for it, too.” He moved closer to her. She could feel the heat of his body. His bare hand pushed against her ass, and his fingers groped towards her slit. “I’ll make a bargain with you. Tell me to stop, and I’ll let you and every one of these folk go.” His fingers moved closer to her sex. She searched for the words, but could think of nothing else but his touch. His hand reached her pussy, and his fingers found her slick lips, sliding along them with ease before pushing inside of her. She shuddered and milk sprayed into the bucket before he withdrew. “That’s what I thought. Now then, I’m on orders. You’ll get fucked, all right, but I’ll be having the Lady Mallory first, I think. First customers will be here soon!” He wiped his slick fingers on her ass cheek and gave her a good smack before setting off down the line once more, unbuckling his trousers as he walked.

Elena looked to the woman to her right, but she wouldn’t meet her gaze. The lady to her left, who she thought to be Lady Sarah, looked back with kind eyes, but any sympathy was corrupted by Sarah’s hand eagerly sliding in and out of her pussy. “When will more men be here?” she asked. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

The light flickered as others walked into the stables. Elena found herself hoping for another man, but instead came women. They were young and some were pretty. They paid no attention to the women, but rushed towards the men. Elena recognized some of them, former maids and servants. A red head, one of her chambermaids, Nella walked over to Richard and coyly stole a glance at the former queen as she pulled up her dress and bent over. The stable filled with the rattle of chains as the men lunged forward towards the offered pussies. Elena watched with envy as Richard’s engorged cock pushed inside the young woman she’d so often bossed around. Nella moaned immediately as her pussy was filled with the former king’s cock. She bounced back against him as his massive balls swung forward to slap against her wet pussy. Elena hated herself, but took a cue from Sarah and allowed her hand to slip down and begin to play with herself.

Within minutes, every man was occupied and short lines had formed in front of each. The former lords would grunt and spray a load of cum into the eager young women. They would slide off the magically enhanced cocks, and a new girl would immediately take their place. The former ladies moaned and masturbated in frustration. Elena had seen, in her former life, a prize stallion put out to stud. She knew she should be appalled to see her husband treated no different than a beast, but she could not deny the allure of the scene. Nella and the others would soon find their bellies swollen with Richard’s children.

A new commotion drew her attention. The stable doors opened again, and new participants filtered inside. At the far end of the line of women, the moaning grew more intense. One by one, men took their places behind the upturned asses of the former ladies. They were young and generally handsome and well groomed. Unlike the women, they did not seem to get a choice, but instead filed in one at a time to take their pleasure with whichever cow they happened to get. Elena felt a mingle of nerves and excitement as the woman to her right pressed her ass back against the bare midsection of her assigned mate. The queen’s own suitor appeared and shock covered his face. He seemed to hesitate and Elena could not let her chance go past. She leaned forward on the stool, reached behind her and squeezed her ass while looking at the young man. “Please…I need it….service your queen!”

The man needed no further encouragement. He pulled down his trousers to reveal a cock almost fit to be one of the breeding bulls. Though he had the equipment, Elena doubted that he’d had much use for it in his short life. For a moment, she wished that they were in a more intimate setting where she could take the time to teach him, but as the woman to her right moaned and sprayed her milk into the pail, Elena accepted that such niceties were no longer part of her life. The man pulled off his shirt and dropped it beside him as he positioned himself behind her. His hands squeezed her ass, and she recognized the callouses of a man who had held a sword more often than a woman’s body. He grunted as his cock slid against her sex. She helped him along by reaching behind her and guiding his cock into her burning cunt. She groaned as the true size of the cock dawned on her. She looked over to see Richard once again buried hilt deep in Nella who seemed quite determined to leave the stable bowlegged.

Her breasts swung back and forth as she rocked against the young man’s cock. He struggled to find his rhythm as his own mind was assailed by the pleasure of his first fuck, though he knew instantly he would return as often as he could. Elena’s pussy clamped around him, squeezing the length of his magnificent cock. A single thought repeated in her mind over and over again, breed me, breed me. She wanted to feel him cum inside of her. She wanted his thick spunk to shoot deep into her body and give her a child. She understood that to be her purpose, just as Sarah beside her and all the other women in the stable. The men would come over and over again to fuck them until their bellies were swollen with child and milk flowed freely from their even larger breasts. Elena knew each of them would be all the more beautiful for it. The young man grunted and pushed hard into her as cum sprayed from his cock. He moaned and whimpered as orgasm rocked his body. Curving his body against hers, his hands found her breasts and squeezed, sending waves of pleasure through Elena’s body.

Then he was gone. He pulled away from her, gathered his things, and moved on. In the glow of her first fuck since her change, she barely noticed. It was only when the next man arrived that she realized the first had truly gone. She didn’t bother to look back at the second or the third or the fourth. She felt their hands on her body with orgasmic glee. She moaned as their cocks pushed inside of her. And she shuddered when they came. When she was clear enough of mind to see, she watched Richard and longed for him. As more men came and filled her with spunk, she knew that to be truly satisfied, she would need to fuck her husband again. That massive cock and heavy balls would be enough to satisfy her. Yet they remained chained mere feet apart, doomed to watch the other fuck countless men and women and cum each and every time. As the fifth man’s cock pushed inside of her and his hands reached around to cup her swollen udders, Elena found herself pitying Nella, her old servant. They could touch the sun but only for a moment. They had to return to their mundane lives while Elena and her friends remained waited on hand and foot. The stable keepers brought them lunch in a pail which Elena ate happily while another man fucked her. They had young women come in and clean them throughout the day to keep them fresh for the next fuck. It’s not all that bad. No more pressure of rule, no more palace intrigue, but all the servants and all the cock I could want.

The day went on and Elena’s thoughts faded. When a new man mounted her fat rump, she would give them an encouraging moo. Eventually Sara moved closer and they let their asses bump together as two men took turns fucking them. They shared kisses and mooed affectionately at one another. Some of the men wanted her mouth instead of her pussy, and she obliged happily. She barely remembered denying Richard that same treat. As she swallowed her second load of cum, she forgot Richard’s name altogether, though her lust for the male in the stall across from hers never went away. The day went on, and the moans stopped being human at all, becoming instead low moos from the women and bestial grunts from the men. She even saw a few of the men’s legs changing into cloven hooves and wondered how long before they were minotaurs altogether though she found no concern for herself in that thought.

The day ended, and the stable emptied of the humans. Elena’s pussy was sore and yet eager for more. Workers had carried off her milk throughout the day and her breasts were, for the moment, more empty than full. She curled up on her blankets with Sarah wrapped in her arms. She sighed in contentment as her sensitive nipples rubbed against the other woman’s back. Her hand slid between them and caressed Sarah’s ass before going to her own belly and wondering which man would be lucky enough to become the father of her first calf. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind free of the worries of a kingdom or a war or the mad wizard Mord, she smiled and thought, It’s good to be Queen.