The moment Jeremy admits that he actually wants the pleasure of the machine, his heart starts to crumble. His eyes, once sparkling with life, becomes dull. And the deep blue pupils turn into a murky color, like a calm deep sea. Still, the stimulation continues, and his body sweetly accepts the pleasures of the machine.
"Ngh...! Ugh, haah...! Ahhh...!"
Whimpers and guttural moans echo back and forth within the glass walls. His elastic buttocks wobble with each thrust of the silicone dild0.
Then the entrance gurgles and gapes, spitting out what it has greedily swallowed. The fluid-soaked contraption plows in with some ferocity, poking, prodding, and teasing the f*ck-loving hole.
No, Max, Max...
I miss Max, I miss hearing his voice telling me everything is okay.
"Ahhh...! Hnn...ngh..."
Jeremy heaves his chest. His heated abs ripple with every sharp intake of breath.
He also has an electrode patch on his lower abdomen. Where pubic hair should have been growing, it is neatly waxed away, and instead, a barcode tattooed there identifying Jeremy as a superior breed.
Jeremy Rogers, or C1429 as he is known, is a superior human being who produces first-rate raw milk.
The heartbroken middle-aged man burst into tears, oblivious to the fact that humans for raw milk products are being treated with a certain superlative; a perfect boyfriend of his dreams and a happy, peaceful life. It is all a sort of "personalized recommendation," tailored to the tastes of a man named Jeremy Rogers. He never has to worry about food, clothes, house, and even an instant sex drive to ensure that he can produce high-quality raw milk.
A single production human cost more than an entire year's wages of a single factory worker. As a special commodity, he is guaranteed the best possible welfare, a fact that Jeremy, who just woken up from his reverie, has no way of knowing.
"Haah haa huff...hot...ugh..."
Exhausted from being pierced by the dild0, Jeremy leans back in his chair and meekly accepts the pleasure. The steady sucking of the cylinder dangling on his breasts sends a shiver down his spine.
Thump, thump―
A low rumble is heard, coming from somewhere, but it starts to get closer and closer, and then it stops. The device that has been pestering Jeremy follows suit, it stops moving.
"Hah...haa..."
Along with the glass cage being opened wide and allowing the cold air outside to envelope Jeremy's naked body, the thick dild0 is pulled out of the gaping hole, leaving a cool sensation, too.
But that sense of relief quickly evaporates. Jeremy, who has been in a lethargic stupor for some time, gulps at the sight of a giant beast pacing in front of the glass wall. He holds his breath, shivering like a man who forgets how to breathe.
"..."
Jeremy stiffens and tries hard not to make a sound. Inside, he asks to one, Shouldn't I be grateful to it for stopping the ruthless machine? Of course, the answer is an unequivocal no. No way this monster can be sympathetic.
The large creature appears to be well over two meters tall. Its head is that of a bull with a short, ashen mane, while its body is heavily muscled. Its skin, however, is ash-colored, as is his coat, so he looks more like a monster than a cloaked man.
That's probably what a minotaur from the mythology of a faraway land would look like if it were real. Jeremy, who loves songs and stories, is aware of the Cretan tragedy.
Of course, someone will play the role of Theseus, defeating the Minotaur in style. But well, it's clearly not gonna be him. A weak, middle-aged man, naked and battered, is a more appropriate sacrifice to whet the minotaur's appetite.
"..."
Knowing there is nothing he can do, Jeremy keeps holding his breath as best he can, muffling any sounds.
What is this actually?
Jeremy has seen a few sci-fi movies, so he is familiar with the idea of virtual reality. He doesn't have any slightest idea why he is being subjected to this, where he is, or what exactly is going on.
But at least it is clear that it will not be wise to question the bull monster about this tragedy. Grunting and snorting hotly, the creature gropes Jeremy.
"...!"
It grabs Jeremy's slender but muscular arm and yanks him out of the glass cage. It is so strong, Jeremy stifles a groan thinking his arm is being ripped off. He is thrown into a wagon.
The bull moves to another glass cage and does the same to another man. It yanks him and throws him onto the wagon, moving again and throwing another man, and moving...
"Auh...!"
As the monster continues to open the glass cage and pulls the men out, Jeremy sits on the wagon nervously. He peeks down his wrists, where the bull had grabbed him, and sees that they are red. He doesn't know what the creature is trying to do, but if he tries to fight or struggle, he's sure he'd be killed in an instant. Jeremy shudders at the thought. The creature looks imposing and powerful, capable of tearing a man apart with its strength alone.
"..."
Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.
Jeremy tries to calm the pounding in his heart and thinks about what to do. By nature, bulls have very large eyes. But this bull monster is covered in dense fur where his eyes should be. He doesn't know if it actually has very small eyes, like a mole, or no eyes at all, but its fumbling gestures make it clear that it can't see very well.
However, its ears seem to be too bright. If Jeremy tries to fool around or run away, it will catch him effortlessly and tear his body apart. So being helpless, Jeremy decides that it is best to just wait and see what is going on to happen. He chooses to sit tight.
"Get moving once the wagon is fully loaded!"
A low, rumbling cry comes from somewhere. Jeremy pokes his head out of the big wagon and shudders, ducking his head again like a soldier in a trench. Damn it, it's not just one.
A similar-looking but larger minotaur, presumably the leader, is flailing his arms in anger, causing other bovine monsters who seem to be working under his command, to bustle about, pulling wagons carrying humans.
Max, what do I do? What do I do?
Jeremy clenches his fists, searching for Max, who of course, isn't there. Unlike the hands he'd grown accustomed to seeing, his now smooth ones without calluses or raw spots are shaking violently.
Like Jeremy, all other men also have large pecs, with round marks around their red, swollen nipples―a mark of the milking transparent tube. Their nipples are erect and leaking, drenching both of their pecs. While their shaved lower belly is tattoed with a barcode indicating that they are domesticated humans.
Wearing the same devices that projected virtual reality, most of them look like they are in ecstasy. A pure look of bliss.