One summer while a teenager of 16, Peter visited relatives who owned a small
ranch in the Texas hill country. The attraction of the place for him was not the
pleasant green hills and sparkling natural springs, but rather his distant
cousin Judy, a buxom country lass about his own age. At a brief meeting several
months earlier, the sexually precocious girl had given the inexperienced youth
his first lessons in making out, in the back seat of a Chevrolet at a drive in
movie. Obsessed by the memory of his adolescent seed spilling in her hands as
her fingers slowly teased his virgin genitals, Peter eagerly anticipated the
visit. The day after his arrival, Judy offered to show him around the ranch,
which was devoted to the breeding of cattle. After pointing out the stock pens
and some of the prize breeding bulls, she led him into a small, clean building
filled with equipment unfamiliar to the city reared teenager. "This here's our
breeding barn. This is where we inseminate the cows to get them with calves.
Also," with a sly smile, "where we milk the bulls." This last remark confused
Peter. "Milk the bulls -- I don't understand." "I don't mean the drinking kind.
Where do you think we get all the sperm for the cows?" She giggled, "Remember
what I did to you at the drive in?" Peter blushed in understanding. "Oh." Judy
walked over to a stall, beside which a large stainless steel machine stood.
"This here's the extractor. We lead the bull into this stall and strap him down
good so he can't kick up a fuss. Then we stick this hose on his pizzle and let
it suck away on him till he creams." She held up a clear plastic tube attached
to the machine. Peter stared in fascination. "You mean it makes him...
ejaculate... just like..." "Yep, it milks away at their pricks until they shoot
a load, just like jacking off. I get a kick out of watching them. They don't
know what's happening, but they sure know it feels good!" "Gee, do you do that
to all the bulls?" "Well, all the breedin' bulls. 'Course the ones we don't
breed get castrated. We do that in this stall, too. Sometimes Paw lets me work
the castrator myself, and he says I'm real good at it." Peter shuddered at the
callous cruelty in her voice. But his eyes remained fixed on the extractor. Judy
played with the tube in her fingers, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
"The extractor don't work just for bulls, you know." "What... what do you mean."
"I came out here with one of ma's cocker spaniels once and caught the hired man
with his pants off and his prick in the extractor tube. He liked it too, 'cause
he gruntin'just like a bull. I went and told Maw what he was doin', and she came
out and ran him off with the cattle prod, didn't even let him pull his pants
back on." Peter's lips were dry as he tried to imagine the scene. She paused for
a moment, and then asked, "What do you think it would feel like, Peter, gettin'
milked like that?" "I... I have no idea." She gave him a devilish grin. "Want to
try it?" He gaped open-mouthed at her suggestion. "You mean... me... in the...?"
"Sure. I'll work the extractor on you, and you can see how it feels. I know you
like gettin' jerked off." "Well... yes, but..." "Then what's the difference?
C'mon, pull your pants off and let me give you a milkin'." If he were alone,
Peter would have relished the chance to try the novel stimulation. But he was
reluctant to perform to such a humiliating and bizarre sexual act in front of
his adored cousin. "Judy, I couldn't! Not with you..." "Oh, don't be such a
chicken! Will you do it if I take off something first?" With that she quickly
unbuttoned her work shirt and spread it open. Peter gaped as her enormous bosom
was bared before him. Rather than removing the shirt, she tied the loose ends
together beneath her breasts, lifting and framing them for his view. "There. I
showed you my tits, so you pull down your pants. Go on now, do it." At the sight
of her abundant womanhood, Peter felt all resistance ebb from him. Almost in a
dream he obeyed, fearing loss of the heavenly vision if he refused. Judy made
him step out of his trousers and underwear until he stood before her naked from
the waist down. Aroused by the experience, his penis jutted stiffly in front of
him. She pointed at this manifestation and giggled. "See, you really do want to,
don't you? Come on, get down on all fours in the stall, like a bull." Peter did
as she asked, even allowing her to fasten the restraints used for the animals.
As he knelt on hands and knees, she took two wide leather belts which hung by
rope from the ceiling and cinched them tightly around his chest and stomach,
forming a sling which supported his weight. She then attached wrist and leg
bindings which secured his limbs to the four corners of the stall. He waited
nervously, helplessly immobilized, conscious of his naked organs dangling
between his parted thighs, completely at Judy's mercy. She gave his penis a
flick with one finger and said sarcastically, "You don't exactly have the
equipment of a bull, do you, little cousin? This here tube might be a bit large
for you. But that's OK, 'cause I've got a small- size one we use for the cocker
spaniels Maw breeds. It ought to be small enough even for your little pizzle."
She chuckled, obviously amused by the humiliating comparison. She attached one
end of the smaller tube to the extractor and then prepared to slip the other end
over Peter's penis. But first she paused, thoughtfully studying his organs. "You
ever see an ol' heifer about to be milked, cousin? That's just about what you
look like, right now. She's got a big ol' floppy udder full of milk," -- she
hefted his male sacks in her palm -- "and a long ol' teat hanging down between
her legs," -- she ran a finger lightly down the sensitive underside of his
shaft. "You ought to hear her moo, when her sacks are real full and she's just
begging somebody to squeeze it." She tickled the little tuck of skin just below
the head of his member, driving Peter nearly mad with excitement. "You want me
to show you how a country girl milks a cow, Peter, how we squeeze those teats in
our hands?" He cried in agonized frustration, "Please, Judy! Squeeze me!" "Well,
I don't know, little cousin, how bad do you need milkin'? I don't hear you
mooing. Tell me how much you need it." Peter bit his lip, trying to resist
yielding to her humiliating game. But the teasing finger continued to torment
his frenum, and finally he surrendered all dignity, willing to do anything for
the promised caress. "...m...moo... Oh Judy, milk me! Moo, MOO, MOOOO!"
Laughing, she grasped his penis in her hand and began squeezing it with a
practiced motion. Peter moaned with pleasure and continued to imitate the sounds
of a cow for her amusement. After a few moments, she tired of this game and
returned to the main objective. She slipped his penis into the extractor tube
and circled an elastic band around the neck of his scrotum, fastening the tube
securely in place. Then without any announcement she switched on the machine.
Peter felt and indescribable sensation. It seemed as if the tube became a living
thing, a pulsing insatiable mouth, a creature thirsty for his very essence,
sucking hungrily at his organ even as a calf might nurse urgently at his
mother's teat. Judy left the machine to work on his genitals and, going around
to the other end of the stall, sat down cross-legged in front of him. Her large
bare bosom was almost level with his eyes. He longed for his hands to be free to
feel it's soft massiveness. "Feels good, doesn't it, Peter?" she grinned. "Mmm...yes,
Judy. It does..." She leaned forward, bringing her breast within inches of his
face. "I bet getting sucked like that makes you want to suck on something, too.
Don't it, little cousin?" Her breast was only an inch from Peter's mouth, and
the prominently erect nipple jutted more that half the space to his lips.
"Please, Judy, may I?" he begged. In answer she only giggled, and leaned
forward. He drew the rosy bud into his mouth as eagerly as a famished infant and
began sucking. Judy smiled to observe that his nursing lips matched perfectly
the rhythm of the extractor on his organ. How long he could have remained thus
before nature ended his rapture in an ecstatic release, none can say. For Peter
was suddenly, without warning, doubly deprived as Judy quickly pulled her breast
from his mouth and shut off the extractor. He groaned in disappointment. "Hold
your horses, Peter, we aren't through yet. I got something else to show you."
She walked over to a wall rack and took down an unfamiliar implement. "Know what
this is?" She held up an iron tool about two feet in length, looking like a
cross between a pair of fireplace tongs and a bolt cutter. She parted the
handles, and pliers-like clamps opened at the end. Peter shifted uncomfortably.
"N...No Judy, I don't." Something about the look of the implement and the wicked
glint in her eyes told him he didn't want to learn. "This here's what we use on
the other bulls, the ones we don't want for breedin'. It's called a castrator.
See, this clamp end goes around their sacks, just above the balls. Then we give
it a good PINCH!" She slammed the handles together, and the clamps closed
mercilessly around an imaginary victim. Peter shuddered. "It's not so bad as it
looks. It puts a metal band around the top of their sac and seals it. Then the
blades cut the sac right below their balls and they hit the ground. And it can't
hurt too much because sometimes they don't even know when I do it to them." She
giggled, "Especially if I'm milkin' them at the same time. I like to do that, so
they'll have one last time to remember what it was like." Peter felt an ominous
foreboding at the direction of Judy's talk. "Uh... Judy... I really have enjoyed
this afternoon, and thanks for showing me the breeding barn, but I think it's
getting near supper time and we really ought to get back to the house now..." "Naw,
there ain't no hurry, we got plenty of time left to show you how this gizmo
works." She drew up a short stool behind him and sat down. "We put the bulls in
the stall and tie their legs apart, just like you, Peter. That way we can get at
their sacks easy." She reached between his legs and began gently scratching his
scrotum with her fingernails. Peter sighed deeply in spite of his growing
anxiety. "We put the castrator right here, right around the top of their sacks."
She opened the handles and circled the neck of Peter's scrotum with the pliers.
The cold iron on his tender manhood made him wince. "Please, Judy... I don't
like this game very much. Can we go back now?" She ignored him. Her voice
changed, taking on a strange, alarming note of obsession. "You know that hired
man I found out here? I didn't finish tellin' you about him. You see, I didn't
go tell Maw about him right away. I watched him for a few minutes, first, while
he was playin' in the extractor. Then he turned around and saw me watchin' him,
and the way he looked at me sort of made me mad. He was just starin' at my tits,
and that reminded me of how he was always rubbin' up against me, trying to get a
feel of them. That polecat just kept starin' at me and jerking off, and then he
even said, `Hey honey, take 'em out and let me see 'em.' "Well that really made
me mad, and I decided to teach him a lesson he wouldn't forget. I told him I'd
show him my tits if he'd let me milk him just like a bull. Well that fool didn't
even suspect, and no time at all I had him strapped down, just like you. I
showed him my tits like I promised, and I set the extractor to milkin' him. But
just when he was starting to let his milk down, I slipped the castrator on him
like this and PINCHED!" She squeezed the handles, very gently, but hard enough
to clamp Peter's helpless glands in a painful grip. "Ow! Oh please, Judy, don't!
Let me go..." She eased the pressure and removed the tool altogether, and Peter
breathed a sigh of relief. But then she reached down and flicked on the
extractor. A moment later Peter felt the cruel metal again encircle his fragile
masculinity and realized his ordeal was not over. "I sure fixed him. Then I fed
his balls to the dog right in front of him." "It's time to finish your milkin',
little cousin, and I'm going to make it real special for you." She giggled
demonically, "I'm gonna fix you, like we do the bulls, like I did that hired
man." "No, please Judy, don't do it..." he begged. "C'mon, Peter, let me
castrate you. I bet you'll like it. That hired man knew what I was doin' to him,
but he still had the biggest cum I ever saw. I think knowing it was his last
made it really special for him. Let me do it to you, please." Although Peter was
in a panic, realizing the peril he was in from the half-crazed girl, he tried to
sound calm. "No, Judy, I don't want it to be my last, maybe sometime later, but
I'm not ready just yet." In spite of his terror, the he could not help thrusting
his hips in response to work of the extractor. Her voice became intimate,
tender, almost loving. "C'mon, Peter, do it for me. You really like me, don't
you?" "...Yes, Judy... but..." "It'd be sort of like goin' steady, like giving
me your class ring, only better. My girlfriend does bronze work, she could coat
'um and I'd have earrings or charms. This way, I'd know no matter what, you'd
never get some other girl friend and forget me." "...but..." Peter was full of
confused emotion. Notwithstanding the horror of what she proposed, some darker,
mysterious urge began to stir within him. He squirmed about in his bonds,
testing the unyielding grip of the tool on his testicles. What would it feel
like, the ecstatic release, the moment of crushing force, the lifetime of chaste
devotion to his beautiful despoiler. A nameless urge welled within him, reaching
back through the millennia to a time when women ruled over men, and it was a
coveted privilege for a man to sacrifice his masculinity to the high priestess
of the Earth Mother. As the extractor drew him inexorably toward spending, these
feelings warred within Peter. He moaned in his agony of confusion. "C'mon little
cousin, let me do it to you, let me castrate you. You really want me to, don't
you?" As she spoke, Peter surrendered to the inevitability of climax. The
pulsing suction urged him over the brink, and he began emptying his glands in
gushing surges. The strong contractions of his penis were clearly visible to
Judy even through the plastic tube. "Now, Peter! While you're letting go -- can
I do it?" In a delirium of sensation he moaned, "Please... Judy... Please..."
but he would never know for sure if he meant "Please don't" -- or "Please do."
Regardless of the youth's wishes of the moment, Judy clipped his manhood and
laid aside the castrator. He long remained slumped in the restraining straps,
speechless with the intensity of the experience, while Judy gently cradled his
sacks in her soft palm and patted his naked backside comfortingly. At last when
he was rested, she released him and helped him to his feet. "Thank you letting
me fix you, Peter? You sure creamed more than I've ever seen before!" Peter had
to admit that he did. In the following weeks Judy, wearing her new jewelry,
would thrill him with countless masturbatory treats -- until he could no longer
achieve erections. The intensity of that experience was never reached. As Peter
left the ranch house to go home, Peter could not help taking one last look at
Judy's new jewelry.
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