Unprotected Zombie Dairy: A BDSM Menage Read online

  “You don’t know anything.” My body shakes again as the hubull holding me laughs. “There was nothing impromptu about those bombs I set. Everything was organized by the zombie queen’s assistant, Arissa. She told me exactly where and when to place the explosives. She’s a true believer in the cause of human liberation.”

  “You poor fool!” The terror in Sarah’s voice echoes over the hillside. I force my eyes open in time to see her snatch her brother’s backpack off his other shoulder and race down the hill with it. She bolts in the opposite direction of where she and her brother had been carrying me off to.

  “Sarah! Sarah!” The young hubull cries out, but his sister gives him no reply. She just keeps running away as quickly as her long legs will carry her, which is remarkably fast.

  Chapter 20

  Daisy

  My state of alertness fluctuates considerably as the young, burly hubull continues carrying me toward the zombie compound. My captor stumbles over the uneven earth, and I am nearly thrown to the ground. I am grateful when he catches me before my head strikes a rock jutting up from the earth.

  “Sorry, Laura,” he whispers then cups the back of my head with one hand. He lifts my face to his, kissing the side of my cheek before hoisting me over his shoulder again. The unexpected violence of his swift movement makes fiery blood rush into my already burning hot cheeks.

  I pop my eyes open, feeling a rush of nervous energy. I want to say we’ve been traveling for hours. But in reality, I know it’s been considerably less time than that. I can still see a few rays of sunlight flickering across my captor’s shiny cowboy boots. My heart flutters, grateful the sun hasn’t fallen completely from the sky, yet. I fear the danger the coming night will bring.

  As we climb closer to the zombie compound, part of me expects to witness thousands of rotting corpses roaming the expansive green hillside. I inhale deeply trying to get a sense of my surroundings. I smell a faint whiff of foulness in the air mixed with a fresh floral scent. The mildly offensive odor means zombies are nearby, but I can’t see them.

  Nothing but my captor’s tight ass, his cowboy boots and the green grass underfoot fill my vision. Tightening my abdomen, I use all my strength to arch my back and lift my chin trying to take in more of the landscape. Then exhausted, I lower my head and torso again, straining my muscles to fall as gently as possible against my kidnapper’s upper back. My shoulders ache from the odd position I fall in. And I allow a faint groan to escape my lips when not even the fabled bobcats and coyotes that are known to hunt in this area appear in my view.

  A full body image of Magnus’ chiseled chest, rock hard abs and powerful arms and legs pops in front of my wide-open eyes. Then I see the farmer’s face. Finally, my best friend Bella’s statuesque figure comes into view. I blink repeatedly, but the images don’t clear. Sarah was right to scold her brother for drugging me so severely. The sedatives coursing through my body have me so off-kilter, I’m hallucinating.

  As I struggle to raise my head and clear my vision, I watch the three translucent silhouettes bounce up and down in the short green grass below me. Part of me wants to flatten out my palms and push the sight of them far far away. But, a deeper place inside me wants to scoop them up in my arms, hold them close to my bosom, and never allow them to leave.

  I stare at the ghostly images floating along the ground, and a mix of fear, sexual desire and genuine heartfelt love overcomes my mental defenses. My heart speaks to me openly in my drugged half-conscious state.

  Why do you let your obsession with celebrity and personal importance separate you from your loved ones?

  I ignore the foreign sounding wording of the question and answer honestly. I speak freely secure in the knowledge that no one can hear my answer but me. I’m only speaking to my subconscious mind, after all.

  Because I’m angry. I’ve been angry with each of them for so long for not loving me.

  Oh, okay, my heart answers and I chuckle at the brevity of its response.

  I came to the farm specifically to meet the farmer because I had such a huge crush on him. But, he never even acknowledged my existence until the day I became the last known hucow and a celebrity. When I was just one of the hundred dairy producers on his farm I was too lowly to be noticed. But, the day I became famous, suddenly he desired me.

  Are you sure of that? Might there have been another reason the farmer didn’t claim you sooner?

  Nope. I respond, certain of the correctness of my answer. My heart releases a sighing sound, which I find odd.

  In order to claim your body, the farmer had to rip you from the arms of your beloved…who just happens to be his best friend. Isn’t that true?

  Yes, I suppose that is true, I admit reluctantly.

  My beloved. My heart has named Magnus my beloved, and I can’t find any reason to argue with the title. I do still love the man intensely…despite everything.

  Let’s talk about my beloved, I snark, my entire body stiffening with rage.

  The first man to share my bed and own my heart allowed me to be ripped away from him. The man gave me up without any resistance. He’s far more powerfully built than the farmer. Hands down, he would have won the battle for the right to claim me, but he chose not to fight for me. He chose to abandon me instead.

  But—my heart intercedes.

  Don’t interrupt me, I rage.

  Magnus could have challenged the farmer’s right to claim my body, but instead he just let his best friend have me. Being abandoned made me feel unlovable and unworthy. I felt like a toy the highborn hubull had finished playing with and decided to share with his friend. The man I loved abandoned me to the cruel whims of the farmer and Bella—

  Cruel whims? My heart repeats my words then begins to sob. While I recognize that the mean taunts the farmer and Bella shouted at me during my breeding had cut into my pride deeply and wounded my heart, it feels unexpected and painful to listen to my tender organ crying.

  It will be okay. We’ll heal, I speak softly to my weeping heart.

  Oh, Daisy…I’m so sorry I hurt you, my heart cries loudly inside my mind. Were you sad the entire time you were with Bella and her husband?

  A soft purr escapes my lips, proof I am touched to know my heart feels sorrow for causing the rest of my body pain.

  But soon, I feel markedly less tender toward the powerful muscle beating inside my chest when violently and without warning, it twists inside my ribcage. It then speeds up in a galloping rhythm, skipping several beats. The uneven pounding sensation frightens me and I jerk my arms downward, wishing I could clutch them between my breasts. But I can’t, my wrists are still bound tightly and I’m still a prisoner flung over a giant’s massive shoulder.

  This drug induced conversation is becoming too painful to bear, so I move to put an end to it.

  No, I wasn’t always sad when I was inside my barn with Bella and the farmer. I was mostly happy in their care. It’s just that, I need verbal assurances of their love for me, if I’m ever to open my heart to them…or to my beloved Magnus. I need each of them to confess their love for me. I purse my lips tightly then rapidly open and close my eyelashes to keep my eyes from spilling tears. Now, please stop speaking to me. You’re making my chest ache, I moan, begging my heart to stop torturing me with this conversation.

  I’m sorry…and I love you, my heart answers. I won’t bother you any longer.

  I continue blinking amidst the fresh silence.

  Heart, are you still there? I call out inside my mind, suddenly desperate to converse with my much abused organ again. When I receive no reply, I feel my tears begin to pour from my eyes.

  I can’t help but weep at the knowledge that my experiences in life have left me so emotionally scarred that having an intimate conversation with my own subconscious disturbs me. And if I’m being honest with myself, I’m also weeping because I’m afraid. I’m frightened as hell that one or all three of the people I love most in the world may be hurt, or even dead.

  I cry fo
r them, but I also weep bitterly for myself. I fear that for the third time in my life, I’m about to be all alone in the world again. I’m soon to become a zombie trapped alone with her thoughts, although she’s surrounded by a sea of rotting corpses.

  I’ve gone and gotten myself captured. I’ve failed to rescue the woman and the men I love. That knowledge will haunt me every day of what I fear is about to become my very short-lived future as a zombie.

  “Don’t cry, Laura.” The sweetness of my captor’s tone makes me want to ball louder. This young hubull really is a poor starstruck, lovesick fool. The big brute is no criminal mastermind. He’s just a deluded kid who got suckered into doing something awful. I’d feel genuinely sorry for him if he’d bother to display any remorse for his horrific actions.

  “Would you consider letting me go,” I beg through tears.

  “Please don’t sob,” he says, this time speaking more ardently. “I can’t allow you to go back to that farm. I must take you to safety. The zombie queen promises to take good care of you. She promises to keep you safe from harm. You deserve to be with people who love you.”

  “You’re mistaken, Decimus,” my voice squeaks, and I lose my breath for a moment. “The zombies don’t love me, and they certainly won’t keep me safe. Please release me,” I beg again with every ounce of air left in my lungs.

  “No. I’m doing this for your own good,” the deluded kidnapper says with finality while giving my bottom one swift smack that declares he’s made his final decision on the matter.

  I continue to cry, allowing the stinging pain gripping my ass cheeks to pull more tears from my eyes. I force my exhausted eyelids shut again, trying not to think about my fate. Unwilling to remain conscious any longer, I stop fighting the need to pass out again.

  Chapter 21

  Daisy

  I wake as my captor stomps through a patch of tall brush. The foul odor invading my nostrils tells me we have arrived at our destination. The putrid smell of rotting flesh makes me cough and gag. I hold my breath to prevent myself from throwing up the bile rolling inside my belly.

  “Please lift me up before I vomit,” I shout with what’s left of the air in my lungs. To my surprise, my kidnapper quickly complies, carefully placing my bound feet firmly on the ground. My sandals sink into the tall grass below me, and the bottoms of my feet tingle from the insult of being asked to support my body weight again.

  I lift my fingers to squeeze my nostrils shut then unexpectedly I hear voices. But, the voices aren’t coming from the grassy hillside. No, the mountain is empty, except for the stinking corpse rotting on the ground next to us. The voices I hear are inside my head. I’m hallucinating again, and it’s got me frightened. It feels as though something or someone has reached inside my brain and opened up an intimate channel of communication where none existed before. The conversation I’m listening to feels real, even though I know it is simply an imagining of my drugged mind.

  “I’m sorry. Is that want you want to hear?” the voice that sounds eerily like the farmer shouts.

  “It’s about fucking time you gave me a sincere apology,” imaginary Magnus screams. “And Flavi, don’t think for a moment that I’m going to let you get away with not apologizing to Daisy for everything you’ve put her through. After I break us out of this prison and we’re back at home, you’re going to get down on your knees and beg her forgiveness.”

  Flavi. I laugh silently. I wonder if that’s what Magnus actually calls his best friend in private. Flavi. I like it. Now that he’s bred me, and I may become the mother of his future children, I suppose the farmer and I are on intimate enough terms for nicknames. Flavi. I chuckle inwardly again. I wonder what the tough-guy farmer will say when I call him Flavi for the first time. If I get the chance.

  The too-proud men continue to fight over me inside the hopeful imaginings of my wildly narcissistic hallucination.

  “I won’t give her up—”

  “I never expected you would—”

  “She can’t be both of our wives—”

  “You’re wrong. She can and she will—”

  “I need you to know I genuinely love Daisy—”

  “I love her too. That’s why I won’t allow you to keep her locked away from me any longer. I should have fought for her when you first ripped her out of my arms. I won’t make that mistake again. I love her too much to endure not having her by my side. I will make her my wife. She will be our fourth—”

  “You’ve gone power mad—”

  “You would know, farmer—”

  “If you have your way I won’t be farmer for long. It’s clear you want the job—”

  “I will be farmer, husband—”

  “You’ll demand to move us all to the new farm you’ve built, won’t you?—”

  “Yes. Every member of my family will live with me in the new farmhouse—”

  Listening to imaginary Flavi and Magnus fight over me makes me feel wanted and loved for the first time in years. But, I wish the conversation I just overheard were real and not a product of my hopeful imagination.

  Feeling both drowsy and dizzy again, I shake my head and push the imaginary voices out of my mind. I’m unable to clearly follow the made-up conversation, anyway. The drugs have my head spinning, and I feel as though I’m about to fall head first into the rotting corpse decaying on the ground just a few feet away from where I’m standing in my now barely visible sandals.

  I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I do. “Please pick me up again, Decimus. I feel as though I may faint.”

  “Anything for you, Laura,” my muscular kidnapper says while reaching down to grab me at the waist. As my tiny body lifts into the air, I lose consciousness, again, collapsing onto the massive hubull’s chest.

  Chapter 22

  Daisy

  “I love you, Daisy.”

  I hear the words whispered over my head almost inaudibly. Opening my groggy eyes, I look up to see my best friend Bella’s face gazing down at me. Her arm is soft and warm as I snuggle up to it. I adjust my body in my chair to discover she’s been propping me up, keeping me from falling out of my seat. I raise my chin higher and grin, overcome with happiness at the comfort of being held in the arms of my best friend.

  Bella shifts in her seat and I right myself, sitting upright in my chair and supporting my own body weight. Widening my vision, I see that I am on a wide stage. I twist my head to the right and witness Hamma sitting in a chair at the other end of the stage. A zombie with bright golden hair is sitting at attention in the chair next to hers.

  I turn my head more and look into the faces of thousands of zombies in the audience. Each individual zombie is shouting out a name, in some bizarre roll call. Some zombies raise a hand while others stand when it's their turn to speak. There are so many zombies that this roll call must take over an hour to complete. Luckily, or unluckily depending on what’s to come next, the shouting is almost over. It’s the zombies at the back of the room who are yelling out their names right now.

  A chill spreads over the surface of my naked flesh. I look over at Bella and see her round, shapely bosom jutting out from her chest wall. Little beads of white cream are dripping from her nipples. It’s the first time in years I’ve witnessed her breasts overflowing with milk. My Bella looks beautiful when she’s bursting full with sweet cream.

  She’s in need of a good milking. I watch her wiggle her shoulders, squirming in her seat, her fullness clearly causing her some discomfort. Suddenly, I am aware of the tightness stretching across my own breasts. I am already full with milk again, and I taste the flavor of butterscotch in my mouth. Perhaps Bella slipped me another piece of protective candy while I was unconscious.

  “How long have I been out?” I question.

  “Good, you’re finally awake sleepy head,” her eyes smile down at me and my eyes open wider to take in the warm kindness in her gaze. We sit in stillness, sharing our deep feeling for one another for several seconds.

  “Please
, tell me.”

  “Oh, I’m not sure how long you’ve been unconscious for sweetie. But you’ve been sitting here with me for only about ten minutes.”

  “I was kidnapped by members of the human resistance,” I confess.

  “I know,” she sighs like she’s already heard all about it. “I was kidnapped myself, by Hamma.”

  My shoulders rise in shock, and I feel a sharp pain in my wrist as I shake out my injured fingers.

  “Hamma kidnapped you?” I whisper my disbelief. “Mama Hamma is a betrayer?”

  “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. She’s either our betrayer or our savior. I’m not certain which it is yet.”

  “Okay,” I say, barely allowing the two syllables to pass through my lips.

  “Oh, sweetie, please don’t lose hope. Let’s give Hamma the benefit of the doubt. She’s been good to us so far. Hasn’t she?”

  Bella says ‘hasn’t she’ like she’s trying to convince both herself and me of Hamma’s good nature. I want to ask my best friend about what had happened between the two of them on their journey to the zombie compound. But, I don’t want to make her discuss anything that might make her lose hope in our ability to survive our captivity.

  “Why are we sitting here on this stage?” I ask instead.

  “Hamma is to have a public audience with the zombie queen. Then— then,” she stutters.

  “Then what?”

  “Then we four are to put on a show—”

  “We four?” I ask, hoping the other two people she is referring to are Magnus and Flavi. If it is, it means they are both still alive. There is hope we can all escape this captivity unharmed.

  “Me, you, Magnus and my husband—”

  “Where are they?” I ask, my voice lilting joyously at hearing the news they are both alive and well enough to perform in whatever show the zombies want us to participate in. If it means keeping us all safe and unharmed, I’ll dance on my head while juggling a handful of balls for these zombies’ entertainment if I have to. I’ll be their willing clown. They can throw whatever taunts they desire my way. I’ll endure mean words. I’ll do whatever it takes to save the three people I love most in the world.