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Drink Her Dry

123

In a non-canon alternate timeline from Monstrous Ranch, the gentle, supple holstaur Laca has taken her catgirl, hob and human boytoy to their new home to indulge for all eternity. But strange things lurk in the wilderness, and not all of them are living. And Laca's milk might not be as effective at breaking their wills as it was for Senya's, Valina's and Bobbin's...

~ ~ ~ ~

Kitten wasn't sure what had distracted her. But she knew, in definite certainty, that she was being a bad girl right now.

Kitten knew she was supposed to be at Mommy's breast, eagerly suckling and filling herself with nice, addictive, mind-numbing, will-melting milk as the holstaur slept. Instead, the catgirl padded down the stairs, her mind in a strange daze.

Kitten was quite a state right now, and if the Valina from a few years ago could have seen her now, she would have been shocked. Her eyes were glassy, milky-green from hours upon hours satisfying her mistress and filling herself with the drugged milk. Her lips were plump and pouty from constant drinking, and her whole form had filled out—just slightly—making her nice and soft and just a little bit plump. Just like Mommy liked her little Kitten to be.

Her dark hair was long and unbraided, hanging in dark curtains around her face. Her lacy silk pajamas were messy with milk and juices, and one of her breasts was half-exposed, spilling out of its scanty coverings like thoughts spilling from her silly head. Her once-perky dark catlike ears drooped, her magic all-but-forgotten as the milk melted away all semblance of independence. Her tail flicked about, excited to take its owner back to her owner.

Her old self, silly Valina, was gone. Now, only Kitten remained. And Kitten was supposed to obey her Mommy.

But Mommy was sleeping right now, lost in lust as her playthings endlessly delighted her. Someone—probably her dear boy Senya—had crawled in to immediately take Kitten's place.

And Kitten couldn't get the voices out of her head.

"Kitten," sang the melodic voices, almost ghostly in the late hours. "Sweet little Kitten..."

Kitten blinked blearily as she reached the bottom of the stairs and reached, hesitantly, for the door. Her lips quivered, and she licked them, already missing her Mommy's milk.

"Here, kitty-kitty-kitty," cooed the voices, and Kitten's mind echoed with longing as she reached for the door. Her free hand was already gently stroking beneath her panties. "Heeeere, kitty-kitty-kitty."

The doorknob turned, and the door swung open.

She was greeted by a wave of delighted coos, and nearly fainted on the spot. Luckily, soft, slender hands were there to catch her, there to guide her where she belonged.

She fell onto the couch with barely a mew, staring up dreamily at her assailants.

Gleaming red eyes stared down at her.

Kitten stared up into those eyes. Her heart had stopped. The red seemed to go on forever, endless, burning fires of nothingness. Dying stars. Kitten felt her mind sinking, and she suddenly felt more pliant, more obediently entranced, than she had in weeks.

Or hours.

"Kitty needs to be milked," came the familiar coo, and Kitten mewled happily, already pulling down her lacy lingerie with trembling fingers to bare her breasts. They giggled, delighted at her eagerness. "So generous. Sweet, whimpering slut."

Kitten licked her lips, and she tried to speak, tried to agree. But a kittenish mew was all that escaped her. Those eyes held her firmly, gently, soft as cotton, like spider webbing at her throat. She could barely whimper.

And as the owner of those eyes descended upon her breasts, and started to suckle, and Kitten's nipples began to tingle with a strangely familiar delight, she began to whimper quite a lot.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Oh, Senya, you naughty boy."

Senya's eyes did not open, but he did wince. Lying half-under the covers, he clutched at Mommy and suckled all the harder, letting her sweet—but strangely less sweet than usual—milk course down his throat. He whimpered an apology. Clearly, Mommy wanted him to suckle harder.

He felt the warm body he clutched trembling, and tiny little whimpers were coming from it—as they had for the last hour or so of suckling. He held it tighter, lapping and sucking at the nipple with a singular hunger. Had to be a good boy. A very, very good boy.

If the Senya from a year ago could have seen him now, he would no doubt have been shocked. But Senya knew this was what he'd always wanted. Senya's brown hair was messy with milk and saliva (Kitten liked to lick him a lot, and Bobbi had become a little prone to drooling when Mommy 'played' with her). His form was slight, and he had grown even weaker and softer from days spent in Mommy's tender embrace—just the way she liked him. Unlike Kitten, Mommy had kept Senya fairly slim, but that was just because she liked to keep him tender and ticklish—and liked him to feel little. Vulnerable.

He didn't mind feeling little, though, as long as Mommy was there to keep him safe.

"Senya."

His hazel eyes finally fluttered open, milky and dreamy, heavy-lidded. His lips continued to suckle as he slowly looked up.

Senya and his curvaceous lover lay on the impossibly soft king-sized bed, immersed in layer after layer of soft feather comforters. Dazedly, he gazed up into the equally glazed, equally vulnerable eyes of Kitten. She bit her lip to hold in another whimper as his lips sucked at her nipple.

She knew as well as he did that he wasn't supposed to suckle him, but for some reason, instead of teasing and tormenting him as she usually would—for while they were both Mommy's slaves, Senya was very much the weakest of the three—she appeared incapable of interrupting him. In fact, judging from the wetness he felt beneath him, she had cum multiple times from it.

His eyes widened, and he pulled off, licking his lips as he looked over her shoulder at the gorgeous creature who held them both in her arms.

Mommy tutted, stroking his hair as he keened. "Naughty boy," the holstaur cooed, guiding him gently back towards her breast. "Silly, naughty boy."

And in the brief moment before Senya's mind melted back into easy bliss at his mistress's teat, he had one small spark of curiosity.

Why was Kitten lactating?

~ ~ ~ ~

Laca gave a long, low sigh of pleasure as Senya returned to nursing her. That was better. When she'd awoken and found Bobbi suckling her alone, she'd had a moment of something close to panic. And then to see him having switched to drinking from the catgirl... oh, how delightful. Hilarious, even.

But the holstaur bit her lip, pushing him possessively against her chest. She needed to be suckled. That was the one thing a holstaur could not live without.

And she truly had flourished since her escape from the Ranch—and capture of her three very most favorite playthings. The holstaur's curly silver hair had grown long, spilling down around her like a bed of fine, soft angora wool. Her form remained curvy and flawless, her breasts massive and constantly leaking her sweet, intoxicating milk which had so captivated Senya, Bobbi and Kitten. Her hazel eyes shimmered with bliss as she listened to Senya and Bobbi—dear, darling, once-so-proud Bobbi desperately drinking from her, eagerly and willingly keeping themselves under her control. Her care. Hers. Hers forever.

She blinked, returning to the present as she noticed Kitten still whimpering. Apparently, the catgirl was jealous, and missed her little attendant.

Laca smirked, reaching over to caress Valina's cheek. "Oh, my sweet, whimpering slut," she cooed. She didn't often talk to her little toys like this, but she knew it affected Kitten—and indeed, she beamed as the catgirl shivered.

"M-Mommy," Kitten mewled, rubbing against Laca's hand. She crawled up, kissing along Laca's exposed breast as Bobbi suckled it, worshiping it on her way to Laca's neck, then to her cheek. She gave Laca's face a little lick, quivering on the bed. She was surprisingly cold, Laca noticed. "M-Mommy, please..."

"Soon, dearest. Soon." Laca giggled, turning to stare at Kitten and instantly captivating the weak-willed catgirl in her gaze. Oh, how easily they melted for her now. Once, Kitten had tried to resist her almost daily. Now she knew true peace, true pleasure, true purpose. All thanks to Laca's love.

Laca blinked, reaching down to run a hand over Kitten's surprisingly prodigious curves. "My, my," she murmured, "have we grown, darling? I don't remember willing that. Such generous curves."

She looked up and saw that Kitten was trembling violently. At first, Laca was concerned—then she noticed that at Kitten's cunt, which was currently pressed against the side of Laca's hip, juices were steadily trickling down onto the bed.

She grinned. "Oh, but how delightful!" She kissed Kitten, continuing to stroke the catgirl's breasts, savoring the helpless trembling that followed. "Poor little dear."

"Unh... M-Mommy..."

Laca gave one nipple a little tickle, giggling when the catgirl jumped. "Maybe my milk knows me better than I know myself, because, goodness..." She made her voice husky, leaning in to Kitten's ear.

"I think I like you like this, baby."

"Yes, Mommy," the catgirl said meekly.

Laca smirked. "There's Mommy's good baby girl." She reached down, nudging Bobbi away from her breast. Bobbi left the nipple with a disappointed whimper and a little trail of drool. "Here you are, Kitten. Drink up. Make yourself niiice and dumb and empty for Mommy now."

And with an overjoyed squeal, Kitten descended back into her mistress's bliss.

~ ~ ~ ~

Entering the house was quite easy. The slaves of the holstaur—those that she didn't constantly keep at her bed, the man and woman who originally owned this dwelling—were easily whispered to sleep, and nobody had thought to sprinkle nutmeg over the doorstep. The milk kittens had even considered devouring the servants whole the first night, but there would be too much risk of discovery if the house went uncleaned.

And so as they had the last three nights, the milk kittens sent the house servants to sleep with whispers, strokes, and gentle little promises. Once this was done, and the two lay in a pile with dreams they would only half-remember, the milk kittens made their way towards their true target.

The doors did not creak. The stairs did not cry out. The red-eyed creatures crawled up to the second floor in perfect silence.

They were a vision mixing terror and desire. Totally naked, their porcelain skin was unnatural, off-putting, like blank canvas, like pooling cream. Their bodies were slim, their breasts small but full, their legs shapely and lithe. They moved like cats, graceful, terrifying.

But the vampires' true power lay in their faces. Two of them, a boy and girl, had long, straight black hair. A third, another girl, had brilliant red hair, the sole source of color of the three. She had given birth to the other three, but they were all equals in this. All three would feed on the fey and the mortal. Their old names almost forgotten dark-haired boy called himself 'Sieve', the girl called herself 'Ive', and the redhead called herself 'Red'.

Their eyes glowed like smoldering coals. Their lips were full, plush and almost glossy. And those lips were the true peril.

They exchanged gleeful smiles and tiny coos of excitement as they opened the bedroom door. Wet sounds—sounds of the most delicious bounty imaginable, sounds that made their mouths water—greeted them.

They stole into the room, crawling around the bed. The redhead looked up, peeking over the side of the bed for just a moment, and grinned. She had seen what they wanted to see: The hob fey and catgirl were suckling, and the human boy lay beside his holstaur keeper. In their slumber, he had no milk, and so he idly sucked on one of her fingers for comfort. Down below, his fingers stroked his cock, edging himself until such a time as one of his three bedmates would deign to show him some mercy.

But, the milk kittens knew, suppressing tiny giggles, he would not have to wait so long tonight.

They began to softly mewl—tiny sounds that could not awaken the most restless sleeper—and watched as the boy stirred, whimpered, squirmed. Their whispers and whimpers sank into his head endlessly, filling him with desires he had no ability to manage in his state.

At the same time, the catgirl, holstaur and hob sighed. The catgirl's and hob's suckling slowed as a deeper sleep settled upon them. The holstaur's embrace loosened, and her fingers half-slipped from the human boy's lips.

Soon, the boy was whimpering, wriggling needily, helpless within the kittens' cooings. But he would find no relief from his mistresses, for they were now sound asleep, captivated within dreams they would only half understand.

And the milk kittens made their move. They climbed onto the bed, again with the utmost grace, the utmost stealth, and massed around the boy. They did not touch him. They continued to whisper and mewl all the while as they slowly closed in, almost spiraling around him, immersing him deeper and deeper into their control until he was visibly twitching.

Finally, they were assembled—Red lying beside him, Ive with her face inches from his hard, precum-slick cock, and Sieve on his hands and knees close to the head of the bed.

Sieve reached down, gently taking the holstaur's hand and easing her fingers from Senya's lips. The boy whined, and mewled, but the holstaur did not stir. The milk kittens beamed. Even just a few inches away, his mistress was helpless to protect him.

"Shh," cooed the redhead behind him, petting his hair in the manner they had seen the holstaur soothe him. "There's a good boy."

Slowly, his complaints quieted. Grinning gleefully, they began to gently roll him over onto his other side, to face away from the holstaur.

This made him complain more, squirming and whimpering. He was getting louder, too,. Reluctantly, they stopped. Clearly, the boy would need to be tamed a little before they could continue.

They thought a moment. Then Red gave an evil grin.

Behind them, the faint wet sounds from the holstaur's nursing continued, but quiet, soft, slowed from the deep sleep. Oh, so soft. So distant.

And so when Red opened her mouth and began to unleash sounds no human mouth could make—the wet, slurping sounds of suckling mouths, the little kittenish whimpers, the sleepy sighs of a happy holstaur—it easily drowned out the sounds the boy was hearing in front of him.

"Sweet boy," hissed the male above, in the smooth, soft voice of the lovely holstaur. "Oh, sweet, sweet boy, why have you turned away?"

The boy's eyelids fluttered, confusion marking his angelic features. But in his horny, sleepy state, he was no match for the undead deception. He slowly rolled over, whimpering as he continued to stroke himself. "Mommy," he mumbled. "Please, Mommy."

As he moved, Ive crawled gracefully around to his new position, giggling a little. They now had the boy facing away from his mistress and straight towards Red. His cock pointed straight towards Ive's head.

He was theirs to enjoy.

Ive licked her lips, eyes gleaming with hungry delight. Leaning in, she gave his cock a little lick—to her delight, it jumped.

She licked it again. It twitched, and he moaned.

With a tiny giggle of glee, she took the lovely cock into her mouth—just the tip—and began to gently suckle.

The effect was immediate, as her lips and saliva worked their magic on his mortal body. He started to writhe, and moan, but Sieve was there to coo comforting words in his ear, petting his hair, confusing him with praise as pleasure poured and poured and surged into him from Ive's gentle drinking.

"Oh—" The boy was writhing, but Ive held his hips steady, giggling around his shaft, "—oh, I—I c-c-can't—"

His eyes finally fluttered open.

And they widened as they were instantly captivated within two gleaming red fires.

Red grinned.

He opened his mouth to scream, but she struck, wrapping her hands around his head and seizing him in a mind-numbing kiss. He screamed into the kiss, thrashing, but she wrapped her legs around his arms to pin them to his sides. Sieve continued to pet him, cooing nonsense, mewling little pleading sounds into his ears.

The milk kittens held him tightly as he struggled, pouring mind-melting whispers and whimpers into his ears. He couldn't escape. Couldn't tune them out. And all the while, Ive's sucking continued, building him higher and higher and higher.

But even they were amazed at how quickly the boy's struggles began to ebb. Before long, he was barely moving at all. His eyelids fluttered, then half-closed, as his next scream sounded suspiciously like a moan. Gradually, the moans dissolved into desperate whines for more. And Ive was happy to oblige him.

They kept him quiet with kisses as the whining got louder and louder. Red held him tightly, giggling as he started to gasp, as the whispers and mewls began to take their toll and guide him back towards a state of half-slumber.

"Pleeeease let us milk you," she cooed, kissing him on the lips. He babbled and leaned into the kiss, eyes half-shut and more glazed-over than ever. "Ooh, please, Mommy would be so happy. Please, you must be a good, good milkslave for us!"

He let out a tiny whine as, down below, Ive let out an agreeing sound. Her sucking was almost as loud as the whispers, and joined the endless waves of enticing sounds designed to render him helpless, confused and horny. The sweet, dreamy boy was already sinking back down, deep into a nice, pliant trance.

And once he was in that state, it was easy to keep him nice and quiet. One time, Ive's tongue lapped sloppily over the head of his cock, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from the boy. Red quickly kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and drinking up his mewls. Sieve continued to coo into his ears, and gradually, his squeals subsided back into soft whimpers.

And then, with one last little smacking sound, Ive began to drink.

Red's lips smacked against his as she watched the light in the boy's eyes sparkle and brighten for a moment, then dim, dull, and fade into a look that went beyond glassy. Staring into his eyes was like staring into a mirror. The boy was cumming—cumming in an orgasm not even a succubus could provide, a steady flow of purest pleasure.

Red pulled back with a giggle. His mouth hung half-open, and his tongue lolled out as he let out a long, tormented moan.

He was still cumming. Down below, Ive's cheeks and tongue were working hard to suck, slurp and lick up every drop. He was not bucking, and her mouth was not moving save to suck. It was like she had turned on the tap.

Inside, they knew, pleasure indescribable was sinking through his body, dragging his entire mind right between the fulsome lips of his new goddess.

And that pleasure would continue through the entire night, as in glee, the milk kittens watched their plaything twitch and tremble... and Red and Sieve waited for their own turns to drink the mortal into this same senseless stupor of bliss.

In future nights, they knew, all three of them would not be needed to drink him. He would be as easy as eager as the catgirl, helpless to even make a sound as they called him to their embrace.

But for now, they gently suckled him, one-by-one, and whispered programming little mewls into his ears all the while.

~ ~ ~ ~

Laca awoke to fervent suckling and moaning—well, more than usual. Her eyes opened, and she looked down with delight as Senya clutched her teat, whimpering loudly. He drank like a man dying of thirst, milk dribbling down his chin, his face a bright, flustered red.

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