The Milk Stud

Chapter 3





Lot in Life





Prater took me to his private chambers and gestured for me to sit on the bed. I was nervous about what he wanted from me until I noticed he was leaving. I don’t know why I felt panicked at the thought that he was leaving me alone. I just knew his presence had occupied my mind from the whirlwind that had been my day.



Only a few hours ago I had been at work, watering plants at the greenhouse, and now I was slave to a Zorn. I had some idea of what Zorns used humans for but not enough to know what my new job entailed. I wanted comfort, even if it was from a seven and a half foot giant. Yet I had no way to express what I felt. We had a language barrier between us that I had no idea how to breach. Besides, he had been gentle with me, but I didn’t think he knew me well enough to care that I was distressed by the situation.



So while he left, softly closing the door behind him, I crawled into the middle of the bed, grabbed a pillow and placed it in my lap. The Zorns were certainly not shy about nudity, but I noticed that they themselves dressed from head to toe in fine clothing. I guess it was a mark of stature that I didn’t warrant the use of clothes. The thought of how insignificant I had become made my stomach churn with unease.



I sat on the bed for what seemed like a long time but really couldn’t have been more than an hour. There was splendor all around me in the priceless furniture and decorations of the Zorn’s bedroom but I barely spared them a glance. I wanted to know my purpose. I wanted to know my lot in life.



Then the door creaked open and an old man shuffled in. He was a tiny thing; as if old age it self had shriveled his frame. His gray hair was thinning but his eyes were bright and shiny with good humor and intelligence. His entrance was slow, but once he spotted me he hurried his walk. In one hand he held a bag; a thick leather bag that reminded me of the medical clinics we had in my part of town. I also noticed something about the man which surprised me at first. He had on clothes. They weren’t as fine as the clothes I’d seen on the Zorns but they were good quality. Better than anything I had ever owned. He had on black trousers, and an off-white, long-sleeved shirt. The sleeves to his black jacket were rolled up—obviously too big for his frame--and so I could see the end of his other shirt beneath. His black shoes were shiny and made no sound on the plush rung as he crossed the room to my bed.



“Hello there, little one.” He grinned at me, displaying a mouth full of healthy white teeth.



I know my face must have betrayed my confusion. He was smaller than I was. He laughed at me. “Ah, I get that look quite often. But tell me your name I should not have to call you little one again. I’m Dr. Harold Fisk, but most people just call me Fisk.



A hundred questions sprang to my mind at once, but the only thing that came to my lips was. “Colin.” The man seemed nice, his very nature demanded conversation and ease.



“Hmm, Colin, nice solid name you’ve got there. Do you know where you are, Colin?” He sat his bag on the end of the bed and opened it wide.



“My master’s room. Prater.”



“Oh, good, you know his name.” I tried to peak into his bag. He reached into it and pulled out something that looked like a small hose with metal disks on the end. “Stethoscope,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m going to check your heart.”



I’d seen one of those before. “They checked me already.” I’d been checked out by a physician before Prater purchased me.



“Yes, but Master Agrus demands a thorough check for all his new slaves.” So there it was, that word: slave. It was the first time I’d heard the word from anywhere else besides the voice in my own head. Again, I didn’t react as I thought I would. I felt oddly detached from the sadness it should have caused. I knew there was nothing I could do to change my position. I focused on other worries instead.



“Agrus?”



“Yes, he is the head of this household. Agrus is also an important figurehead in the Zoron government. He likes things done in order. He has two sons. You’ve met the youngest,” Fisk smiled warmly. “You are very lucky, Colin. Prater is the youngest and most agreeable of the Dothi family. He spent more time with humans than his brother and is therefore more careful of their welfare. His eldest brother is Rothgar. He is …less tolerant of humans. Some would call his handling quite severe. Certainly Rothgar would do well to emulate his younger brother. Though among the Zorns, Rothgar’s attitude is accepted as his right of ownership.” Fisk’s expression suddenly became very serious and I knew what he was about to tell me was extremely important. “You must understand something, Colin. Once a Zorn owns a human he belongs to him completely. His actions, his very existence is to please his master. That is your lot in life. You’ve been given a master that is fairer than most. Be glad that you have and do your best to please him. Please Prater and your efforts will be rewarded. Now,” he waved me forward, “please come closer so that I can assure Agrus that you are in perfect health.”



Keeping the pillow in front of my bare privates I did as he told me to do. Fisk’s explanation had frightened me, because I feared meeting this Rothgar. I knew that he was glossing over the truth. Rothgar is less tolerant of humans. I had a sudden vision of large hands and gleaming teeth. I shuddered and couldn’t stop myself from trembling all over as Fisk blew on the end of the Stethoscope and pressed it to my chest. “Do not worry so, Colin. Prater may be more patient with humans, but he has little tolerance for his brother. He will not allow Rothgar your company.”



“My company?” I asked.



Fisk’s cheeks pinkened at that, and he turned his attention toward instructing me to breathe in and out several times before he spoke again. “It is not uncommon for Zorns of a same household to share slaves. Rothgar has two slaves and he would not share them with his brother. You are Prater’s second slave and right now his only. I do think he will want to share.”



My curiosity was aroused and I asked, “What happened to Prater’s first slave?”



Tucking away his stethoscope Fisk said, “He stopped producing milk.”



I made a face. “Milk?”



Fisk laughed. “Cum, my boy. The boy stopped producing cum, and Agrus made his son sell him. Zorn’s thrive off the stuff. It is their bread and butter so to speak. If one cannot produce then one is of little use to them.”



I swallowed, remembering my first encounter with the Zorn a few hours ago. My cock hardened at the memory, and precum dribbled from my slit. I closed my eyes, mortified that it was happening now.



“Are you feeling well?” Fisk asked me. By now he’d pulled out a tongue depressor. I opened my mouth obediently and let him look to his heart’s content. Then he checked my ears and timed my pulse. “You seem in perfect health.”



My cheeks were flushed, and I clenched my fists. I was flowing from the memory of Prater’s mouth. “Ah.” Fisk said. I could see the knowledge in his eyes. “On to the next step I think, and none too soon.” He pulled out a black ring from his bag.



I felt my eyes flare. “What is that?”



“Cock ring. Until you have more control, you need to wear this. Coming without the permission of your Zorn is highly frowned upon. In fact, spilling your seed for the purpose of relief is a very serious offense. I would not have you punished young Colin. We shall put this cock ring on. Then there will be no chance that you flow before Prater has you first.



Fisk spoke so as if what he was saying was no big deal. I contemplated this cock ring of his. I didn’t like the idea of having one on but I couldn’t see a way around it. I didn’t want to get into trouble by coming without permission either. I had no other choice. I held out my hand. “I’ll put it on.”



He quirked one white eyebrow at me. “You know how?”



I sighed and nodded. “No.”



The pillow was plucked from my lap. “I will show you.” My hand automatically flew between my legs to cover my genitals. The sight of my flushed length curving toward my belly with its wet tip made me cringe. I feared I was never going to get used to nudity.



Fisk chuckled. “My dear, boy. Yours is not the first I have seen and will certainly not be the last. Come now, let me put this on. It will be over very quickly. Then I can give you something to wear. You’ll need your collar also.”



I ignored the part about the collar for as long as it took to slip the ring on. This one was adjustable. There were rubber protrusions that fell into a slot on the ring and Fisk adjusted it to my size. He was right; it was quick, and his fingers didn’t touch me more than necessary. But when he was finished I realized my arousal was worse. Not only would I not come, but I wouldn’t go down either. I was to be left in a constant state of arousal. Great!



Stuffing the pillow back between my legs with only a small flinch I asked. “Collar?”



“Yes, it should be here somewhere.” He cast his eyes about. “Ah, yes there.” Fisk walked over to table against the far wall which I had failed to see. When he returned he held a light blue collar in his hand. There was a crest emblazoned in the very middle. He tapped it. “The Dothi crest.” He turned the collar around so that I could see the buckle at the back and next to it a strange symbol. “Prater’s name”, he assured me.



We traded my old collar from the factory for my new one. While putting it on I imagined that an invisible door was closing, one that left behind my old life and embraced the new. What new life I’d have still remained to be seen. As Fisk continued to talk to me and check my vitals I found myself thinking not of me but of others. I wondered what unfortunate young men were the properties of Rothgar, and I wondered what had become of Prater’s last boy. What was the fate of a boy who stopped giving ‘milk’?



***

Fisk had left me with a lot to think about. He was an old man who had few people to talk with so he was more than happy to share his knowledge with me. I’d learned that he’d been with the Dothi house since Prater was a babe. He was around seventy-one cycles and he could even understand about half of the Zorn gestures and grunts. Fisk was not born on Zoron. He had never been a slave forced to take a master. He was a respected doctor of the household. Most Zorns had one, as they did not have the communication abilities nor similar treatments to treat their human slaves.



When I asked Fisk if I had to stay in my room when Prater was not around he’d told me that it was quite the contrary. Zorn’s traveled everywhere with their personal slaves. Even on business a Zorn was allowed to have a ‘pet’ slave along. I would be Prater’s constant companion, always there when he had need of me. I was happy to know I wouldn’t be locked away in a house for the rest of my life, but I was also nervous about pleasing Prater. I had not seen him in anger yet, and I did not want to, though I knew that his anger of me was inevitable one day.



I discovered one other problem as I waited impatiently for Prater to come to me after Fisk had left. I had missed two of my offerings in the milk bucket. While Prater’s thirst had drained me of seed once that day, arousal and lack of a second release, while the third release schedule was swiftly approaching, made me ache almost unbearably. The cock ring taunted me with its presence. I tried to pace, but the ache was maddening. Fisk had given me a sarong to wear around my hips. He’d explained that it was all we were afforded to wear while in the house. I’d ripped it off sometime ago in frustration. My genitals now ached so bad I thought I would cry if I didn’t find release soon. Add to that my growing hunger for sustenance and I was in agony.



I debated the risks of leaving the room to find the kitchens. Back home Mom always had something to snack on lain out at the kitchen table: freshly baked bread, honey cakes, a bowl of fat grapes, sliced fruit wrapped in wax paper to keep it moist. My stomach growled, echoing the one in my head. I decided against leaving. The last thing I wanted to do was run into Father-Zorn…what’s his name? Oh, right, Agrus, or worst still, Rothgar. I was curious about his boys though. I wondered if I would meet them soon. Would they like me? Could we be friends? I hoped so.



The door banged open and I sat up quickly, reaching for my cast off sarong. I laid the blue cloth, which matched my collar, over my lap. I tried not to pay attention to the tent it made between my legs. Prater stood at the door, a silver platter balanced in one hand, and a giant mug in the other. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes landed on me and I saw him nod.



He came toward the bed, and I had to fight the urge to scurry off it like a child about be chastised from his parent for being lazy. His weight made the bed dip down slightly, but it was a huge bed and it was sturdy; it didn’t dip too much. Prater laid down the platter right in front of me. The mug he kept hold of. He looked at me and gestured for me to try something.



I knew what he meant, what he intended for me to do. So why did I hesitate? I have no idea. Letting out a sigh, which was very much a human expression of exasperation he set down his mug on a nearby table, reached down and took up a piece of fruit. The platter was loaded with all kinds: melon, apple, and orange slices were neatly paired together. Next to those were grapes, korkoa: a grapelike fruit native to Zoron, and fresh strawberries. There was also an assortment of crackers, and pastries separated from the other fruits so that the flavors would not mix. Prater had chosen a strawberry. He tore off the leaf and held it to my lips.



I opened my mouth obediently, darting glances to his face as he fed me the strawberry. It was sweet and juicy, and the flavor burst across my tongue. I noticed he was watching my mouth. His fingers lingered near my lips and I saw his nostrils flare. I thought that he intended to do something but he just reached for more food. This time it was a korkoa. Prater fed me until I reached for an apple slice and fed myself. He grunted his approval, though he hadn’t seemed to mind feeding me at all.



I was enjoying a piece of honey-glazed cracker when I felt him tug aside my sarong. I froze, and dared to look at him. His lips twitched and I could have sworn he had just bitten back a smile. I didn’t say anything as the sarong was pulled off my lap, exposing my ringed cock to the room temperature air. The sarong had rasped the head of my cock when it was removed so I might have whimpered. I couldn’t be sure. My heart was racing so fast it was all I could hear in my ears.



I hadn’t felt the ring so acutely until he was staring at it. My skin felt tight and hot as arousal surged through me. I kept imagining Prater’s tongue and what he could do with it. I only jumped a little when Prater reached out, but he wasn’t moving to touch me. He tapped the mattress. Lay back.



Nodding, I put the cracker back on the platter and slowly did as he wanted, aware that I was shaking uncontrollably. Prater wrapped his hand around my ankle and tugged my legs apart. Then he leaned down, situating his broad shoulders between my thighs. He shoved the tray further away on the bed, as not to risk spilling the food. This new position put his head right above my leaking cock.



I fisted the covers under my hands as I stared up at the ceiling, waiting in torturous anticipation. I could feel his breath against me. If I hadn’t already been shaking the feel of him exhaling warm air on me would have made me do so.



Nothing prepared me for the feel of his hot tongue lapping over my balls. His hand went to the base of my cock holding me out of the way while he played me with his tongue. I panted for air, struggling not to move. I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a mewl and realized it could only be me. The ring around me seemed almost unbearably tight, and then his tongue was there, curling around me, flirting with the ring. I heard the snap give way under his fingers and then his tongue bathed my sensitive skin. I couldn’t hold still any longer, not as he interspersed licks of his tongue with gentle sucks. The tip of his tongue pressed into my slit. I whimpered, and my hips came off the bed.



Prater held me down and sucked. I uttered nonsense words, feeling my orgasm rushing up to flow out of me. “Ah, God!” I cried, curling halfway off the bed. Prater continued to suckle me, nursing every drop I had to give. I fell back onto the bed, breathless and sweating while the big Zorn cleaned me with his tongue. After all that I was still hard.







_______________________________________________________________________________________________________




Kay there were quite a few reviews so I'm just going to list everyone and say thanks and answer the any questions that were asked. Yeah, I'm being lazy right now--will respond next time individually.:0)



Thanks To

Vandalizer86

brilliantbean

Saminada

PoisonedWine

Mater Tenebrarum

womo

ohdarkenedstone111

ariesgirl

kordavamennemer

littleolme

tamingriki

Camui

Anon

Kateus

auel

J42





Q&A
Will tab A fit into slot B concerning the humans and Zorns? Sure will, not to worry.



How will they communicate? Largely by using gestures and grunts.When you live with someone for some time you can learn ways to communicate without words. Of course we've seen that in sign language, but you learn by body gestures as well. Also, Prater will pick up words, not much,but a few.