Fields of Daisies and Clover – A Hucow Story, Parts I - VI - Sex Stories

Fields of Daisies and Clover – A Hucow Story, Parts I - VI

... and took off without even bothering to pull on their clothes. The joys of being alternative humans.

I turned back to my grandmother. I’d had enough. I advanced on her, but she stood her ground. When I was right in front of her, she grabbed my horns as if she was going to try to strongarm me down to the ground. I stood stock still and she just ended up literally hanging off my horns.

Enough.

I slapped her hard across the face, knocking her from her perch and sending her to the ground on all fours, holding her cheek. I grabbed her ponytail and forced her the rest of the way down, her face pressed hard against the gravel, her body laying prone on the driveway. I pushed my knee against her ass and held her down.

“Your rudeness was unnecessary, bitch,” I said. “The wolves are helping me, I won’t tolerate that behavior from you.”

“I’m the one who will decide what’s permitted, not you,” Bibi sneered. You would have thought that being forced to the ground would have been enough, but apparently not. The fact that my entire body was rippling with muscles and that I had a cock that could have torn her in two if I wanted wasn’t enough to mollify her either. I had to admit, my grandmother had spunk.

“Wrong,” I said. “You convinced my mother that turning me into a bull would help me overcome my temerity. Actually you were right, and I’m putting my foot down about you. This farm is mine, its operations are mine. My name is on the deed, and my name is on the contract with ...

... the wolves. I am the cows’ bull. I am in charge, period. So either be a decent human being or get the fuck off my land,” I said. I stood my ground, she was not pushing me around anymore.

Bibi looked angry, but her mouth stood open. Then slowly the anger faded, and it was replaced by shock. Then the shock slipped away to be replaced by uncertainty, then to disbelief, and finally to dismay. Tears welled in her eyes and ran down the dust on her nose and cheeks before sinking into the driveway pressed against her ear.

“But...but Brendan,” she finally said. “I’m getting old. I’m not ready for this. Help me. I want to be a cow, too.”

She looked really, really sad. And even though I had a newly-discovered bullish side, I still had feelings. And those feeling went out to my grandmother now that she was being real rather than obnoxious. I let go of her and stepped back, she rolled over and sat up in the gravel.

“Look,” I said. “I am fine with you being a cow, I’m fine with my mother joining us too. I just need you to understand you are not the alpha, you are not the beta. You will be the omega – the very bottom of the milking order. If you behave and be a good cow, someday you can become just another cow in the herd. But that is all you will ever be. And if you become a cow and don’t comply with orders, you will be brought to heel. What I did today was just the beginning, and if you don’t believe me, ask Lucy about her early days as a cow in my herd. And nobody associated ...