Disciplinary Action

By RotherhamMan - rthrhmmn@gmail.com
published June 5, 2019
3082 words
Summary

This is what happens when you break the rules of the Ranch!

** **Ellis had an office at the Ranch. It might seem strange but there was a lot of paperwork involved in abducting guys to be milked—probably because it was on orders of the government. Paperwork got their dicks hard. Ellis had a fantasy, one of the few he had not lived, of an inspection from some office who sent an intern who was far from prepared for the reality of what they did. He could give the kid such an eye opening experience. He palmed himself absently with one had at the idea. May he should get an intern for himself but he’d probably have to end up sharing him with the other guys. He could get quite possessive of his toys and anyone who tried to take what was his, even his fellow ranchers, would feel his wrath.

His office was quite large; it had a desk at the far end with a computer but the rest was a playroom. The wall was lined with sex toys for all kinds of play, from vibrating wands and plugs to whips and canes. He had a chair for binding playmates to along with a bench for tying them over to expose their ass and a St. Andrews cross on the wall. Of course he never got to invite anyone from the outside world to play there, much to his regret (he would love to show his lover Neil the pleasure of the male body that he could give him) but could use any of his men as he saw fit so long as it did not disrupt the running of the Ranch—which he would never do, the Ranch was his life.

There was a knock on his office doorframe, there were few door in the facility as there was little need for privacy. Glancing up he saw Rancher Greg stood there in his work gear. He was just under six feet but had a nice build that made him look broad. All he would wear at work was the bear minimum; leather chaps that left his ass and cock open for all to see. “You wanted to see me, Boss?”

“Yes, come on in.” Ellis waved him to the seat opposite his desk and got out some beers from a fridge in the wall. “We’re both almost off duty and we don’t talk enough.”

“Thanks Boss.” Greg took the beer eagerly and wasted no time in chugging down some. Ellis watched, drinking only a small amount himself, his leather jockstrap was getting tighter. He had always liked Greg, he was a prime specimen and had had the pleasure of having him in the playroom on more than one occasion. He had noticed as Greg had entered a pavlovian response to the bench and thought about giving him one last go but decided not to. What was about to happen was never pleasant and he wanted it over with.

“Though I have to be honest, this is not to shoot the shit or anything casual, I’ve been alerted to something on the surveillance tapes.” At the push of a button the TV on the wall started playing the footage. Greg stilled but didn’t look too panicked.

The footage was of the Bull room. There wasn’t much movement as they were milked of their cum and they jerked and twitched in their restraints but other than that there was little activity until Rancher Greg come on screen. His six inches were hard and balls drawn up to his body. He looked left and right at the bulls, walking between the isles so he had access to their rears. They were all plugged to stimulate their prostates and remove waste but it was common knowledge that the plug was one of the removable pieces of equipment. It was only known to Ellis, however, that to do so would set off an alarm and message him the surveillance video.

Such an alarm and message was sent when Greg, after looking around to make sure he wasn’t observed, removed the plug of one of the bulls. Ellis had looked at the file of the Bull and knew it was one of the aware ones who had not had its mind destroyed by drugs. It struggled in its harness at the removal, maybe it was distressed at the loss of the intrusion that had been there for six years straight and missed the pleasure it was designed to bring or maybe it knew what was going to happen. Its ass was loose, sloppy and defenceless and would provide no resistance and Ellis would be surprised if it had any grip to offer.

It didn’t seem to bother Greg who wasted no time in thrusting himself into the Bull and, holding onto the straps securing it for leverage, pounded away at its ass until, less than three minutes later, he visibly came. He then replaced the plug and went on his way with a small smile on his face. He thought he had gotten away with it.

“I don’t know which is worse,” said Ellis, stopping the film, “that you misused Ranch property or that you lasted only two minutes and twenty seconds.”

“Yeah, well, I’d been horned up all day. Aren’t we all”

“Yes, but when we want to get off we got to the vats and do it there. That is the policy.”

“Oh come on, Boss. Who cares? It was a Bull, not like I fucked a person. And even if I did it was an immigrant Bull, they’re there to be punished!”

“And they are punished. Every day of their lives. What you have done is unacceptable and I’m going to have to discipline you.”

“You gonna put a note in my record or something?”

“Not quite. I’m demoting you.”

“But the only Rank here other than Boss is Rancher, there’s nothing below that.” “No, you can’t mean…”

“You shouldn’t drink on duty either. The drug is in your system, might as well drink up. Not like you’re gonna get to drink beer again.”

Greg looked at the bottle in horror—it was less than half full. He gaped in disbelief and desperately smashed it on the desk and held the shards at Ellis, getting up to try and back out of the room. But the drug had already started and his legs weren’t strong enough to support his weight, he collapsed on the floor and the remains of the bottle fell from his grip. He tried dragging himself across the floor for the doorway but it was no good.

Ellis went back to his paperwork as Greg stopped moving and started to slip into unconsciousness. He had finished the forms for the fucking of a Bull and now started the forms for a new addition to the Ranch.


Greg woke up on the descent to hell. He was already in the harness and knew before he felt the cold on his skin he had been shaved completely in preparation for what was to come—mainly him! He immediately started struggling even though he knew it was no good. No one had ever gotten out of the Ranch—hell no one had even gotten away when they so much as cropped up on the Ranch’s radar! There was no getting out of this! As he looked up he realised that although he was in a harness in a frame like a regular bull he was not hooked up to anything yet; there was nothing up his virgin ass or in his cock and his mouth was free to talk.

“HELP!” he screamed out “HELP ME PLEASE! SOMEONE! I’M SORRY FOR WHAT I DID! PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME!”

It seemed his screaming was the signal he was awake and ready. From the doorways his fellow—ex-fellow—Ranchers entered the room. All of them filed in and surrounded him, forming a ring of the fifty of them. He begged at them and pleaded but there was no response from any of them; they just watched with fear and pity in their eyes.

Ellis entered the circle and stood before him but addressed the men and ignored his pleas. “Men, you have all worked here for a long time and you all know the rules. What you might not know, or might not appreciate, is what happens when the rules are broken. Greg here broke the golden rule: we do not fuck the Bulls. I know it might not make sense, they are not able to complain or stop us and it hardly makes a difference to them, but the authority that founded this place thought it should be an ethical line that should not be crossed and was explicit in what happed to those who do cross it.”

He finally looked Greg in the eye and Greg could not stop himself from crying. He bawled like a baby, he could not help himself. Ellis snapped his fingers and two men came forward with a mouth piece. Greg began hyperventilating at the mere sight of it; it was designed to go a full seven inches down the throat to bypass the taste buds and gag reflex, sending whatever substance they fed him down to the stomach. More terrifying was the idea of it being forced down his throat—however well lubricated it was. Once it was in he would be unable to speak and so he did his best to get it all out now before he was silenced forever.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and I’ve learned my lesson, anything but thi—” and his mouth was being prised open by one man and the tube inserted by the other. He tried blocking it with his tongue but it slipped right across its surface and was of no help. Before he could do anything else it was at the back of his throat and he retched to try and evacuate it. But the Ranchers would have none of it and went on to insert it to its fullest and buckle it in place. The padlock clicked and Greg knew it was all over for him.

“As it happens,” Ellis was continuing over his processing, “we were in need of a subject to demonstrate our latest milking technique.” At this a Rancher brought out what looked to be a shiny rubber sphere the size of a football. He was handling it with leather gloves and holding it at arms length. “Our alien buyers have decided to grace us with a gift to enhance our output. This is a genetically engineered organism designed to bond with a Bull and stimulate it accordingly. If what they say is true then it shall be able to extract 20% more milk from a single bull over the course of a day.” He gestured to the Rancher who moved towards Greg.

Greg recognised him: it was Tod, his friend of three years while they had worked together. Tod couldn’t look at him and focussed his gaze on the sphere in his hands. He pressed it onto Greg’s crotch—his cock, unsurprisingly, was as flaccid as it could possibly be—and it immediately latched onto him, sticking to his skin like tape.

It had a rubber-like texture and was cool to the touch but seemed to be getting warmer, mimicking his body temperature. It stayed as it was for a moment before moulding to his skin, drawing his cock away from his body and into its mass. Then it started moving, covering his skin and spreading itself out around his waist and between his legs like a pair of rubber underwear. The feel of it was nice against his skin and its spread was sensual, if he hadn’t been terrified of what was going to happen to him he would be very aroused at this and felt his cock give an involuntary twitch. Seeming to sense this the… thing… started shifting, seeming to run itself over his length and stroking him. It worked its way under his foreskin and teased his piss slit. It had covered his ass now and he felt it sink between the cheeks and knew it would soon be invading his hole. To the others it must look like he was wearing rubber underwear that bulged at the front around his growing erection.

“As you can see,” Ellis said to his men as if giving a lecture, “The amoeba, I’m sure you guys will give it a nickname soon enough, has attached itself to the Bull and has adapted to fit it. Soon it will begin penetration.”

Greg was already being called a Bull. He was beyond all hope now and could do nothing but hang their in despair.

The blob of rubber was probing at his entrances, he had never had anything go up them; in his opinion a Man only had things come out. At his ass there was a feeling as is fingers were pressing through the substance to finger him, it was large and dull and the pressure was increasing. His cock was being squeezed regularly like a pulse and a far narrower—mercifully—something was starting to make its way down his slit. He whimpered as he was touched in places he had never been touched before. His ass gave way to the probe and it was moving steadily up inside him.

One of the men spoke up, he couldn’t care which. “How does he shit?” There was a smattering of laughter from the circle.

“That’s the beauty of it,” said Ellis. “The… creature not only stimulates his prostate and anal passage but it consumes the shit and piss for sustenance while expelling the milk for us.”

There was a ripple of groans of disgust. As if that was the worst thing happening here and they were the ones most inconvenienced by this. Some of the men however were stroking themselves openly at his suffering and the few who wore rubber to work were wide eyed and looking almost envious.

The anal intruder was deep inside him now but was doing nothing else. On the outside it had become thin against his skin, transferring its mass to other areas. Inside his cock it had gone so deep he could feel it taking root in his balls. The substance was so thin his cock and balls were now practically on display. He had always paraded himself around the place like he was The Shit but now he just wanted to curl up and die.

“It looks like it has settled into its new host.” Ellis was treating him like an experiment. “At some point it will begin to stimulate it. You are free to go about you business, the new Bull will remain here as a warning to all of you what happens when you break the rules.” So he was on display, there for everyone to see until he was put away with the other examples. As most of the Ranchers filed out Ellis came up to him and leaned it. “You’ve always been a good employee and I like you but I cannot help you now, I can’t even drug you up to numb the pain. You know the rules, you must suffer the consequences.”


And so another Bull joined the line of examples in the entrance hall, there to be seen by all who entered every day of what would happen to those who broke the rules. Set up on display and with nothing to hide, each had a plaque in front with their names and ‘crimes’ along with a counter showing how long they had been there and how many loads they had given in big letters. The crimes ranged from trying to leak information to the press, trying to break a Bull out, or being too loose lipped at bars about their job (that one had resulted in a lot of new Bulls and a whole month of work to cover it up and the culprit was subject to the most torment by passing Ranchers). There were seven now, including the Bull formerly known as Greg but this latest addition was the only one with the new symbiotic life form milking him.

When it started its stimulating Greg had thought he might have a seizure, the feelings were so overwhelming. Not only was the intruder up his ass pulsing, sliding and wiggling but it was as if the whole creature was covered in stubble, little tiny hairs that stimulated every millimetre of him that could be reached. His cock and urethra were at the focus, if there was any, of the feels and the creature seemed devoted to the single task of pushing his buttons until he was desperate. He had never had to go long without cumming, always with a mouth, ass or hand to get him off, he had never been denied his own pleasure before but now he was getting it in spades.

When he was allowed to cum his cum was collected in a bubble-like bag of semen which inflated at the tip of his cock before detaching and dropping onto a specially made gutter for it to roll away to be put with the other shipments. Already he was producing ten bags a day, at first the size of an apple but getting bugger every time as he was drip-fed the drugs to enhance his semen production. Unlike the other Bulls he never got a break from the milking and was milked continually while the others got to rest at night. He was only able to get snatches of sleep, dozing and wondered if the symbiote was somehow making him functional with little to no sleep.

He tried appealing to those around him as they came and went but most ignored him. They were invisible, like homeless people. Everyone feared becoming them but would not help them. Sometimes someone would stop to watch, palming themselves and getting off on their suffering. Greg hated them, they could look him in the eye and smile at him; he wanted to kill them. But he never would because this was his life now, as a Bull of the Ranch.

Hot
Mind control
Wanking material
Writing
Idea
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