The Vaught Family Dairy - Ch 14

- 14 -

The Vaught Plantation - August 5th, 1952 - 11:55 p. m.

Elizabeth could feel Gregory's leer grow intense as she knelt beside him. She'd forgotten the previous night's strangeness, buried it under the debauchery she'd enjoyed before coming home to be humiliated. "Melanie was with me," she said. "I was holding the hand of the woman who's been fucking my husband. I wanted her to be friends with my daughters."

"You did," Gregory agreed. "Because you were in such a rush to get your daughter away from a guy whose dick you happily fuck, you brought your husband and his mistress face to face with his whole family between them. What else?"

A wrenching feeling of guilt weighed her down. "Cunningham knew."

"He did. All it took was seeing that look in Benny's face, and he put it together. The senator isn't a fool, or wasn't until we made one of him. One domino into the next. Because do you know what happened today?" His hand came out and tilted her chin up to look at his shadowed figure. "Today, because of you, Abby and I had to make a deal with the devil."

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Vaught Plantation - August 5th, 1952 -1:42 p. m.

Greg paced uneasily back and forth across the lab. Abby sat in serene contemplation, a small folder in front of her on an otherwise clean worktop. His wife's calm normally reassured him, but the past day had seen her acting strangely. Not the middle of the day fuck frenzy, but the uneasy fear she'd expressed over her own work. Then, the fiasco the previous night. Greg thought his wife had known it would happen, somehow. She had a preternatural sense for those kinds of things, a latent social deftness that left him in the dark most of the time. This time, it had landed him in the frying pan.

He'd had two calls from Cunningham that morning. The first was a terse insistence to speak. The second demanded "that fucking cad's castrated balls nailed to the wall of the Capitol building". Luckily, the senator had gone back to the District. His daughter had absconded during the night, revealing a shrewd bit of foresight on her behalf to prepare an exit route in the apparently inevitable scenario of her father locking her up. Obviously, she intended to meet up with Benny, but that wasn't likely to happen. Benny had come home with Greg and currently waited in the basement of the warehouse, comfortable but confined.

"We could do it a different way," Greg said for roughly the fifteenth time since Abby woke him up with her plan. Well, she woke him up with her mouth on his cock, but once she'd resolved that issue she explained her idea.

Abby smiled at her husband, riding the line between patient understanding and condescending annoyance. "We could, but the result would be the same in the end. This is our best option."

"It's an insane option, Abby. You're the only woman I need."

"And I'm the only woman you'll have," she answered. "Greg, we've never lied to each other or held anything back. You know I'm being honest about this. The others won't bother me. I'm not afraid of losing you because I have absolute faith that you'll always put me first." She shrugged. "Besides, if you don't I can always shackle you to a wall and fuck you when I feel like it."

The idea piqued his interest. Perhaps that was the better ending for them, Greg reduced to a brute that never had to think about the fragile egos of senators and hypocritical southern belles. He wouldn't mind the part where he was kept chained to a bed to be ridden whenever Abby got an urge. That part at least wouldn't be terribly different. He did believe her when she said it wouldn't bother her to see him fuck other women, but the particular women she had in mind seemed wrong, even to his degraded moral sensibilities. "But, your sister and --"

"Tell me with a straight face that you've never thought about bending her over and teaching her a lesson," Abby said with a coy grin. "My sister, for all her flaws, is beautiful, and we've heard plenty of stories about her sexual enthusiasm. What makes her cunt so special? A hundred years ago, hell even today, if a man's wife dies it's nearly assumed that the wife's unmarried sister would take her place."

He grumbled. "And the others?"

She shrugged. "We barely know them. They apparently want the life of a hucow, so why not give them one in a brand new dairy house. Frankly, if my serum formula works correctly, you'll need all the help you can get over the next week. I alone certainly won't be enough, and I do insist on evaluating new candidates for our little project." She tapped the folder.

Greg resumed pacing. A few minutes later, a knock at the door preceded Maddock's entrance. "Ready, boss?" he asked. When Greg nodded, Maddock opened the door wide and stepped through, holding out a hand for their guest to enter.

Ehrlich Flensing never looked smug or pleased or anything other than vaguely alive. Still, Greg sensed a small measure of eagerness about him that made the man's otherwise void personality much more off putting. "Greg, Abby, a pleasure to see you," he said as he stepped inside. Abby stood up on her side of the worktop, and Greg went to join her. Maddock shut the door and stood in front of it. Most men would have been disturbed to be suddenly confined by the looming bulk, but Flensing walked unhurriedly to stand opposite of Abby. His eyes focused on the folder. "Your notes?" he asked.

"The summary of my theory with two practical applications and the associated data. Enough to prove it's viable, but not to replicate it."

"May I?" he asked, holding out a thin hand. Abby slid the folder to him. He picked it up and scanned through the contents. Flensing wasn't a chemist or a scientist at all, so he might as well have been reading ancient Sumerian as far as Abby or Greg were concerned. "The protein coding algorithm responding to hormonal level changes has been several of your contemporaries' white whale. You found it with seeming ease."

"Epiphanies can be reliably rote if you spend decades of your life searching for them, I guess," Abby said.

"These practicals do not demonstrate a control for negative hormonal response. If a positive invokes an increase in milk production, is the converse not true?"

Abby folded her arms. She didn't like to be questioned. If one thing could put her off the deal, it was being doubted by a man who didn't match a drop of her intellect. "Potentially," she answered, "but highly unlikely. The baseline of Milktec serum creates a positive hormonal response, increases relaxation, lowers inhibitions, and raises sexual receptiveness. Unless you alter the serum to specifically avoid that, thereby neutering its purpose altogether, the baseline of hormonal feedback will always be high enough to read as positive. The hucow will always be at least a little happy. The presence of the bull, even if he were cruel to her, would still cause a spike in levels to produce the corresponding production increase. Similarly, for males, the serum can increase the desire to nurture, protect, and so on."

The folder closed. "You sound as though you can simply engineer thought."

She smiled, "Then we both understand my value to Milktec's future."

"Very well," Flensing said. He left the folder on the table as he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded set of papers. "This is the contract. It will provide all the things you requested. We can have them here within the hour. The additional funding will cover the costs associated with operation. Your lab will be expanded and staff offerings will be made, although any additional staff you bring on will be strictly monitored for serum abuse. As discussed, we will set up barrier protocols between test environment and lab environment, but otherwise we will remain off the property. And, obviously, you are both exempt from regulatory oversight including the barrier protocols. Otherwise, we continue on as we have these past years. Onward to a brighter future together. If you would both sign, that is." He produced a gaudy pen and offered it to Abby.

"What about the others?" Greg asked. "Our first... enlistments."

"Individual contracts are prepared for them. Their official tenure will begin after they sign. I'm sure you're aware that these contracts have never failed to protect Milktec or its contracted employees, regardless of the circumstance of their signing." He said it with no inflection, but the meaning was clear enough. Greg had seen it many times in his line of work. Get the hucow first and the signature later was Milktec's official policy.

Abby scrawled her signature on the appropriate pages before sliding it over to her husband. Greg, with one final hesitation, added his name to the contract, noting grimly that Flensing's pen used red ink. The man took the contract back in a quick motion. "Welcome to the Milktec Family."

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The Vaught Plantation - August 5th, 1952 - 11:57 p. m.

"We are now owned lock, stock, and barrel, by Milktec Industries," Gregory said.

"No," Elizabeth said weakly. "The plantation isn't Abigail's to sell. I won't allow..." The scent of him suddenly grew overwhelming. He'd done something, moved somehow. Elizabeth's body flashed hot. She wanted her clothes off, needed them off, or she might suffocate. "What have you done to me?"

"Nothing, yet," he answered. "But, I did something to myself." She heard him move followed by a click. Another light came on behind his chair, and for the first time since she'd arrived, she saw him in full.

Elizabeth's body shuddered. Despite her protests, Gregory had always had a dark handsomeness about him. Now, his features seemed stamped harder on reality. His jaw was a little firmer, his hair a little darker, and his eyes a little more piercing. His chest bulged with muscle. The shirt he'd had on had ripped in several places. Both sleeves had split around his biceps. Broad shoulders narrowed rapidly into a muscular waist that drew in slow, deep breaths. His pants, too, strained to contain his changing body, but for this he'd taken a subtle moment to loosen the waist. Now, she knew, with their story all laid out, he no longer needed to hold back his enhanced body. He'd drawn out his cock from the confines of his clothes letting it stand out from his body in its thick, girthy glory.

She gazed at the size of the thing wondering how it would feel in her. A sticky sheen of precum had been smeared over the wide glans, and she wanted to lick it clean, bad enough that her mouth watered for the taste of it. And still, she realized, he was restraining himself. His body seethed with the same tension that kept his manhood rigid and waiting. What had he told her? Get the hucow first, then the signature? How could he do this? How would Abby allow it? Elizabeth wanted to demand answers from them both, but her mouth lolled open and a small trickle of wanton drool wet the corners of her mouth.

He brought his hand to his shaft and lazily stroked. Though his hands were wide and strong, they looked dwarfed by the throbbing erection. He looked at Elizabeth with a glare of mingled distaste, arousal, and restraint. "Undress," he said. "I have a gift for you."

The idea of being given his cock, of spreading open her pussy to let him push inside of her, caused her body to twitch with need. Mechanically, she moved to undress fully while remaining at his feet. It took time, slowed by her intense desire to touch herself. When she took off her final stitches of clothing, she heard him hiss with want and yearned for him to take from her. Her breasts remained sensitive from serum, swollen and aching to be touched. The room's warm air moved across her bare nipples as they stood out hard and needy. Could simply being so close to him cause me to give milk? Would sucking his cock cause me to gush?

"Not as good as your sister," he said, but he gave his cock another hard squeeze. "But you'll do, I suppose." He stood up, towering over her such that his near-dripping cock hovered above her head. She craned her neck back to look up at him, mesmerized by the dark eyes in the background as she hungrily watched the sway of his manhood. "All these years, and look what came of it. Should have told you to kneel and suck my cock the first day we met. Might have saved some time."

Elizabeth barely heard him. Her gaze had moved to his balls. They looked heavy squashed between his thighs. He couldn't spread out enough due to the pants still clinging to his lower thighs. Compelled to assuage his discomfort, she reached out and yanked on them, moving them down. As more of him was revealed, his scent threatened to overwhelm her. She leaned closer and let her cheek press against the hard muscle of his legs. It only drove her to a worse level of need and forced her back to focusing on undressing him.

The dim part of her mind was filled with rage. Not only was she naked and kneeling in front of her hated brother-in-law, but taking off his shoes like a doting, slavish wife. She even made sure to set them aside in a neat pair before looking up again at his straining hardness. A bead of precum swelled at the tip, and her whole body ached to take him into her mouth. His hand stroked against her hair, causing her to lean into his touch. Get hold of yourself, for Christ's sake.

"I knew you could be a good pet if you put your mind to it. So, time for your present."

To her surprise, and disappointment, he didn't grab her head with both hands and shove his cock into her throat. He reached back to the chair and pulled out a small, flat box. He showed it to her before removing the lid to reveal a black leather collar with a bright silver clasp. It jingled as he tossed aside the box and held it up while gazing at her neck. Unable to resist, Elizabeth pulled her hair to the side. He gently curled the leather around her throat and pulled it to a snug fit before latching it. As he pulled his hand away, she felt cold metal hit her chest. She touched it with her hand, feeling the bit of thin metal that had been stamped with words. "It's got your name on it," he said. "And a serial number in case you wander off. Or maybe we loan you out. Abby's idea. The others have one, too, don't worry. You'll fit right in."

The various clocks throughout the house started chiming. Midnight. Mustering all her resistance, she cut through the haze of lust plaguing her. "This isn't... you fucking monster. What have you done to me?"

"Stand up," he ordered, and she obeyed. She came up only to his chest. The serum had apparently given him extra height as well. Somehow standing up beside him was worse than kneeling. At least on her knees, she could have the illusion of standing to regain control. Inches away from his powerful body, she felt, for the first time in her life, small and terribly exposed. She wanted to press her body into his and let his cock press against her. It took a constant focus to resist moving her hand to the throbbing shaft. It was so close and would be so easy to wrap her delicate fingers around it. Her thoughts stopped as Gregory's hand came to her breast and roughly ran his thumb over her nipple.

Her body sizzled with lust, her legs weakened, and she melted against him. He held her up with one hand while the other continued to paw and prod at one breast and then the other. He rubbed incessantly in a set pattern until finally his thumb came away slightly wet. This seemed to please him based on the rumbling purr in his chest, so it pleased her, too. She nuzzled against him, licking and kissing at his muscles, praying silently he would fuck her and end this madness. "A few more things before we get to play," he said, his voice heavy with lust.

She heard a new metallic clink before feeling a slight tug on her neck. He'd fixed a leash to her collar. She squeaked an objection right before he pulled away from her. It was only a few feet, but the absence of his scent left a void in her mind that was desperate to be refilled, leading to her nearly dropping to her hands and knees from loss. The leash was about five feet of braided leather from the collar's hook to Gregory's hand. He moved back to the full length to display how little freedom she had left. No, Elizabeth. Snap out of it. That's Gregory, not some divine man who you must obey. It was a hard argument to make considering what Gregory now looked like. His hair was longer, she noted, giving him a bushier, wilder look. With every passing second, he seemed to be more even if his physical body had not changed at all. He filled up the study in a way that no natural man should. Elizabeth imagined his mouth taking her nipple between his lips, those hands lifting her hips into him just like how he'd described fucking her sister. From the look on his face, he imagining the same thing.

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Greg had come this far. He had his sister-in-law completely naked on a leash. He could see visible wetness between her legs, and her body was nearly buzzing to be touched. He had wanted to take it slowly, to draw out her final humiliation as long as possible. He needed to do it just to pay her back for the decades of slights and verbal abuse. You're not better than me now, are you Liz? If I wanted, I could have your legs spread open for me with nothing more than a tug on your leash. Abby had warned him the feeling of control would be intoxicating, but he'd foolishly doubted her. It wasn't until he had Elizabeth undress that he understood the gift his wife had given him. No woman would ever resist him if he wished it. None except his wife, who'd modified her own serum to make her immune. A small part of Greg resented Abby for it. A taste of true control made him desire a monopoly of it. No, Abby's way is better. If I want the Vaught sisters kneeling side by side waiting to swallow my cum, I can order Liz if I have to. Abby will kneel willingly.

From the look on Liz's face, she would be as willing if not outright desperate. Standing back from her gave him the chance to finally admire her naked body. The lasting effects of long term serum usage were evident in the ample size of her breasts, but her natural shape still shone through. They sloped out from her chest to the hard, dark tips of her nipples that remained wet from his toying. When was the last time she'd taken a serum that would cause her to give milk? The night with the boot camp kid at the bar? Four days ago, and he'd only teased her for a few seconds before she started to leak. He wanted to taste her, but she'd need the full serum to make more than a little leak.

His eyes trailed further down. Her hips flared out wider than Abby's. She stood indelicately, her long years of strict proper training being dimmed behind her lust. Her knees were far enough apart for him to glimpse the wet lips between her thighs, and to see the fleshy globes of her ass from the front. She would thicken further once in full production, changing from fat bottom to fuckable rump. He found himself looking forward to the sight more than he expected. To the point that he had to look away from her delicious slit unless he lose control entirely. He had always hated how his sister-in-law wielded her body's voluptuousness, but now he had it for himself.

Stepping closer to her, he listened to the sharp intake of breath. In her eyes, he saw a small kernel of anger, but she had no idea what was waiting. His free hand moved to her side. The backs of his fingers grazed along the curve of her breast and then down her ribs. Everywhere he touched, her body responded, her skin turning to gooseflesh as her breath quickened. "It's remarkable you haven't started fingering yourself yet, I think," he taunted. Her hand was so close to his cock, a few inches of movement and her thumb could rub over the head. That minor touch would be more than enough to cause him to gush onto her heaving breasts. No, not yet. Make her come down from her ivory tower.

He gave a small tug on the leash and turned toward the door at the far side of the room. She followed him obediently, and her eyes stayed on his body. "I know it's hard to focus on anything other than how much you want to ride me, but you needed to remember, Liz. This is all your fault. Not because you were ashamed to have your daughter talking to one of your boy toys. Not because you got jealous of Melanie Cunningham or Benny. No, your original sin is all the way back when you and I met, and you declared that I wasn't good enough for your sister. Even knowing that she was leagues beyond you in mind, you thought yourself better than her. You ignored all your flaws, rationalized them as being irrelevant. You threw whoever you need to onto the train tracks of your ever important social status. Whatever happens, I want you to remember that you brought this on yourself. Because I wasn't good enough for your family."

They stood in front of the library door. She peered at him with resentful fascination and curiosity. From the other side of the door, he heard playful giggles. Incensed by the knowledge of what waited for them, he opened the door and dragged Elizabeth along behind him. He relished the sound of her confused anger as she took in the scene before them. "Here they are Liz. Your family. Exactly where you led them."