This has nothing to do with the Moocows story and instead deals with another set of Bulls.
“And here we have Number Three-Eight-Seven-Five-Four.”
I gazed at the massive beast in front of me. He must have towered nine feet, easily, the entire frame molded in thick, vein-covered slabs of heavy muscles. He was covered in a moderate coat of black and white fur. A small set of horns erupted from the Bull’s head. What arrested my sight more was the chest: they were huge, ridiculously pumped plates of muscle that draped over his thick abs. The nipples, bigger and thicker than a combat helmet, were so low upon those pecs that they appeared to be on the verge of falling off. Thick white fluid slowly dripped off them and onto the floor.
“He is beautiful,” I said, drinking in the sight of this Alpha Bull. My gaze drifted down to the amazing appendage between his legs, a cock so big and thick that it astounded me. It was heavily veined and proudly hung down to the Bull’s knees while balls the size of ostrich eggs visibly quivered in their tight sack. I whistled in envy. “Damn.”
The Bull smiled toothily and raised a ham hock arm, flexing it. A beachball of muscle formed.
“I am sure he will be more than happy to satisfy your thirst for MooMilk,” the other Bull said. He motioned to the Alpha, who flexed the other arm. “He is one of our prize producers.”
The Alpha let go of the flex and started to rub his chest. He snorted a bit. “Gotta be milked again, sir,” he rumbled out.
The Bull nodded. “Excellent,” he said, nodding to a set of tubes in the corner of the room. Two dangled from the ceiling while another lead to the rubberized flooring. “We will give Mister Carl a demonstration of our production.”
As the Alpha walked over to the tubes, the Bull explained. “As you no doubt know, MooMilk is a protein rich supplement designed for those willing to go the extra distance with their athletic performance. We have designed a way to format our fellow Bulls to become producers of the supplement, thus helping our fellow Earth brothers, such as you, to push yourself farther in said performances.”
I nodded, seeing the Alpha connect one of the two upper tubes to a chest nub, the opening easily covering it. He then connected the other one, and then took the bottom tube—a thicker and longer one—and slipped it over his cock and balls. He then placed a hand over a small black wall panel. “Number Three-Eight-Seven-Five-Four ready for demonstration milking.”
“Acknowledged,” a computerized voice said.
“What happens now?” I asked.
The Bull waved me to silence. “Wait and see.”
The Alpha snorted, feeling the suction the tubes were applying to his nipples. He flexed his arms, showing off his arousing display of beef. “Fuck,” he said. “I always like this part.” Then his chest visibly shuddered, flexing into two solid plates of striated muscle as the tubes flooded with thick white liquid that got whisked away to hidden machinery in the ceiling. He moaned deeply, his face scrunched up in an expression of absolute pleasure.
“This is MooMilk?” I asked, surprised.
“A component of it, yes,” the Bull said. “Of course, the mix is diluted somewhat and given other things—fillers mostly—to help with the texture and flavor. We are still developing a few more things, though.”
The moaning soon passed to heavy panting. The Alpha looked at the two of us, smiled, and flexed the other arm. “Aw fuck, here it is again,” he groaned out before the tubes flooded again with his milk.
“How many times can he do this before he runs out?”
“At the current rate of production,” the Bull said, “an Alpha can produce about thirty-five gallons of milk per hour. Those gallons are enough for six hundred bottles of MooMilk.”
“Wow,” I said, looking at the Alpha getting milked. I noticed his cock was also being suctioned off. The tube formed over the rock hard member, a very heavy flood of clear, thick liquid gushing out from the organ. “I can see he likes it.”
“Of course he does.” The Bull smiled. “I do not know if you knew this,” he said, “but Alphas are extremely lustful, needing to satisfy their sexual needs almost constantly. One of the consequences of our creation,” he added.
“I am somewhat familiar of the story,” I said. “Something about a plague?”
“Indeed. Well, this is one of the stranger repercussions.” He waved a hand to the milked Alpha. “A subspecies, if you call it, of our kind that needs a near-constant release of sexual tension. We found a way to help with that, as you can see.”
A loud bellow cut short the conversation. The Alpha flexed hugely, both the nipples and cock flooding the tubes with thick, white fluid.
“The best part of this stage,” the Bull said loud enough to be heard over the moaning, “is that we found a way to extend the length of an Alpha’s orgasm from a minute to at about five.” He smiled. “We are still looking to extend it, of course.”
I stood slack jawed. The Alpha looked like he was a statue, his body flexed to its utmost as the three tubes milked him. His mouth was open, the tongue lolled out. His eyes roamed over to me, and the mouth formed into a goofy grin.
“Number Three-Eight-Seven-Five-Four,” the Bull said, “can you tell us how you feel?”
“How I feel?” The Alpha’s voice was thick with lust. “Fucking awesome. I have not felt this way in hours. I need this so much.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “So much,” he repeated.
“For many Alphas,” the Bull said, “the milking counts as a medicinal remedy for their need for release. Let an Alpha get pent up too long, and he will be on what we call *t’z’urh’sm*. The very rough translation is ‘sexual violence’. He will be unable to control himself and will usually rut with anyone and anything, usually at the risk of harming the victim.”
The orgasm soon spent itself, leaving the Alpha slumped over, panting as the tubes sucked out the last drops of his loads. There was a quiet chime, and the tubes pulled themselves off and into their respective machines.
“Number Three-Eight-Seven-Five-Four finished trial production,” the computer voice said. “Next session is expected in seventeen minutes.”
The Alpha took a deep breath and straightened up. He stretched luxuriously and went up to me. “I take it you enjoyed the show,” he rumbled out, a thick finger rubbing the noticeable bulge in my pants.
I blushed and nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty awesome.”
He smiled. “Just think of how I felt.” He raised an arm and flexed it. “By the Father, I need to rut so badly.” And without warning, he wrapped the arm around me and brought me in for a massive embrace.
All I felt was the thick bristles of his pelt wrapped around his solid muscles. All I could smell was his sweat and his arousal. I tried not to cum, but the feeling of being surrounded by the Alpha was too much. I moaned as I shot into my underwear.
I felt him chuckle. “That’s it, brethren. Let it happen.” He loosened his hold a bit, and I lifted my head to find that I was eye to eye with him. He actually picked me up the ground!
“Shall I let you feed from the source?” he asked as he gently caressed a nipple. He shuddered as he did so. I couldn’t help myself, and I reached down to continue rubbing.
He shuddered again. “Careful there, brethren,” he said. “If you keep doing that, I’ll be needing another session. And I rather see you sample my milk instead.”
“What?” I asked as he put me down. He pointed to the Bull, who was across the room in front of what looked appeared to be an espresso machine.
He placed a bulldozer hand on my shoulder. “Most samples are at full strength,” he rumbled out. “We like to see the effects it has on our brethren.”
“Full strength?” I said before the Bull turned around, holding a tall glass filled with a froth of white liquid.
“Here you go,” he said as he walked to me. He passed over the glass. “A sample of our MooMilk compound.”
I sniffed it, and it echoed the Alpha’s musk, causing my cock to twitch in its sodden confines. I gingerly took a sip, the taste reminding me of a banana shake. I started to drink it down. “Pretty good. What is in this?”
The Bull smiled. “I told you that the Alpha’s milk is part of the formula. The other part is the Alpha’s other milk.”
I lowered the half-way empty glass. “What?”
The Alpha chuckled and fondled his balls. “I said you should drink it from the source,” he said. He gave them a quick squeeze. “I might need another session,” he continued. “They’re feeling rather heavy.”
“Later,” the Bull said. He motioned to me. “Yes, you are drinking pure Alpha milk. Equal parts of the three collected, mixed and flavored. And from what I can tell, you are enjoying it.”
I looked down at the almost empty glass. “Yeah, if I didn’t know what was in it, I would say it was pretty good.” I swallowed the last of it and handed the glass back. Already I could feel a small burning sensation in my stomach, and I thought I was going to sick up. “Woah,” I said, placing a hand over it. “What’s going on?”
The Bull smiled. “No doubt you are starting to feel one of the side effects of drinking Alpha milk.” He put the glass on a table and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I think you will like the other effects.”