Chariot Race at Brad's Human Dairy Farm

By Jeff White

An adult book, not for sale to persons below the age of 18.

This is the tenth book in the popular series Brad's Farm, telling stories of the Dorset farm where the most popular product in milk. Human breast milk, from the two hundred and fifty human cows who live there, naked, all year round.
In this story twenty paying guests, along with a dozen farm hands and Brad himself, compete to supply the sperm that will make the sexy Chantelle pregnant; Doctor Rebecca allows herself to be branded with the trademark of the farm and takes on three of the farm's members for a bout of public sex; Lois gives birth to a baby, which like all the others produced on the farm goes straight to its adoptive parents; two of the girls deliver a bed that they have hand-made in the furniture factory at the top of the farm to its new owner and allow him to test it out on them; the same two deliver fresh milk and on orgy to an ice-cream parlour; the girls in the factory, unbeknown to Brad, make a pair of full size chariots; Brad eventually agrees to put on chariot races for the farm's many paid-up members.
The book includes graphic descriptions of oral, vaginal and anal sex, as well as much erotic lactation. During the chariot race the riders use whips on the naked human cows who are pulling them, drawing blood from their strong sexy bodies. And most of the men in the book have larger than average penises. If any of these things may cause you offence, then this book is not aimed at you and you must not buy it. Otherwise it is a lot of fun ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff White
• Release date: Feb 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311360779

Jeff White

I am a middle-aged Englishman, ok a young 56-yr-old, who has spent many years serving refreshments to a largely sympathetic public; I've now stepped back from that, and am doing a bit of writing, both adult and otherwise, and offering assistance to prospective e-publishers, ie helping to format and upload ebooks.

Book preview

Prologue

SHONA checked that the finished product was perfect: a thin strip of willow, worked on a lathe to make it exactly the same diameter for its whole length. At one end an ornate 'B' had been burnt into the wood, the symbol of Brad's Farm; at the same end a hole had been drilled through, and a thin leather strap attached for a handle. Or possibly this end could be used on the poor victim? The leather came from the farm; there was a conventional herd of cattle in the fields of Brad's Farm, and when they were sent to slaughter the leather was all returned for the other cows, the human cows, to make into various artefacts, and most of the meat was returned to be sold in the farm shop. The wood had been stained deep red and French-polished, making the cane a thing of beauty.

As well as the burnt-on letter, Shona had signed her name on the wood before applying the stain. This was the first one she had made, and she was proud of it. She was waiting now for the buyer. He was paying two hundred pounds for it, which sounded a lot; however, he did not just get an ornamental stick. To prove that it was also fit for purpose he got to try it out on its maker: ten strokes on Shona's full arse, as hard as he was able to do. Shona was ok with that though. Brad allowed his hucows to keep ninety-five percent of money they earned from services such as accepting beatings, and in common with the other girls, she wanted to build up as much in her account as she could while she was still able to produce commercial amounts of milk.

The door to the front of the farm shop, the public area, opened. Shona, in the members' area at the back, heard the bell. Almost immediately Chantelle opened the dividing door and said, Your customer's here.

Shona walked through to the front of the shop. The man's eyes lit up with undisguised lust when he saw the hucow's naked body. She had been the first black girl to join Brad's human dairy farm, and she was still one of a very small group. Her face was almost regal and her body, especially with the full breasts, was perfection. She was very much in demand! She recognised the look in the man's eyes and decided he was a creep: she was glad that he had only paid to cane her, not to service her. She held out the cane for him to inspect. He took it from her and checked it over. Nice colour. It'll hardly show the blood.

Thank you, Sir, she replied. She was certain he would not draw blood from her buttocks with just ten strokes. I'm glad you like it.

And where do I get to try it out? the man wanted to know.

Just here, Sir, Shona told him. She turned to face the counter and leant on it with both her elbows. Her tits were hanging straight down from her chest, heavy and pendulous, and little drops of her milk were oozing from her and dropping to the floor below. She wriggled her arse, a clear invitation to the man. She said Don't be shy about using it properly. I'd hate you to just tickle me with it, after all the work I put into creating it.

I'll give you 'properly', the man told her. He brought the cane down on her buttocks, and as the stinging slap seemed to echo around the small shop Shona breathed in sharply; undaunted though, she said, I'm afraid you're not allowed practise strokes, Sir. That will have to count towards the ten.

The man felt his cock swell rapidly, although whether it was from the sight and sound of the cane on Shona's arse or from what her challenge implied, he was not sure. He wished though that he had negotiated a fuck too! He said, All right then, cow. I'm going to cut you.

Shona relaxed a little then and spread her legs wider. Thank you, Sir. My skin will look pretty with fresh red blood running down it.

With a frown of concentration, the man raised the cane high above his head. He was determined now to tear the hucow's butt open, to hurt her so much that she would never forget him; he brought the stick down as hard and fast as he was able, and this time not only did the flesh of Shona's buttocks ripple away from the cane, but her whole body also moved forward a couple of inches. He inspected the mark; a livid weal had come up straight away and he looked for any sign that the skin might have split, but it was intact. Stepping back, he raised the cane for his third strike.

Chantelle watched with interest. Originally taken on just to serve in the farm shop, she had very soon become a much-liked member of the team. Then, when her abusive father had hurt her particularly badly one night, Brad had agreed that she could move in. He had had a cabin built for her behind the shop, and he'd also agreed that she could join the milking herd. Rather than having her milk induced by spending hours on the pumps, she was to be impregnated as part of the farm's programme of surrogacy, and it was expected that she would continue to live in the cabin, running the shop as before and visiting the milking barn regularly to have her udders drained.

She was also rather into pain. Watching Shona's arse being beaten had an instant effect on her pussy and she resolved to go to the woodworking shop at the earliest opportunity to make a cane of her own to sell! And she would make sure that the customer paid to service her too, no matter how creepy he was! She watched the man putting his best effort into each stroke of the cane and she could see him sweating as he did so; from where she was standing, she could also see beads of moisture standing out on Shona's brow as she tried not to show how much it hurt.

At last, the sound of the tenth stroke stopped echoing around the room. The customer inspected Shona's arse once more and still there was no sign of blood. He put the cane down and then he unzipped his trousers to reveal a very erect penis. He said, Fuck it, you owe me this at least.

Moving very quickly, Chantelle placed herself between her friend and the man. She said, That isn't part of the deal.

The man grabbed Chantelle by the shoulders and attempted to push her out of the way but despite her petite frame, she managed to stand firm. He said, Get back behind the counter, shop girl. Unless you want some too.

Chantelle held his gaze and said, You be very careful what you do. Brad's always looking for new and interesting foodstuffs for the pigs.

He looked at the girl for a moment longer and then he turned and walked out of the shop, zipping his trousers up as he left. Chantelle watched him go and then she saw the cane on the counter. Grabbing it, she followed him out of the door and shouted, Don't forget your stick! Perhaps you can beat yourself off with it. She threw it after him and went back inside. Shona was standing up, her hands behind herself massaging her tender butt. He was a nice man, wasn't he, Chantelle commented.

Thanks for standing up for me, Shona said. I'm not sure I'd have been able to stop him.

Yes, you would, the younger girl said. All you'd have had to do was offer him a blowjob and then bite his dick off.

Shona laughed then. I like your pig food idea better. Her arse still hurt, and she turned round to let Chantelle inspect it. The things we have to do to earn an honest pension!

Chantelle thought that she'd like those marks on her own pale buttocks! Serious for a moment though, she asked her friend, How long do you think a hucow could work here?

Shona shrugged. I don't know. No-one's ever left yet. I don't suppose you could make milk when you got to be over forty.

So do you think Brad will just kick us out when we get too old to produce?

Shona hadn't thought much about that but said, We just need to make loads of money before then. I fancy retiring somewhere nice like the Caribbean.

Chantelle replied, "I reckon that when we get too old