The Rut

4. MILK

The Venable Home had long ensured handsome fees by providing a suite of services designed to appeal to the well-educated, moneyed and indulgent parents of its residents. At its founding this included home economics classes for errant females, promising a near seamless return to their intended trajectory to hostess cocktail parties for their professional husbands after having delivered and surrendered their offspring. By the time of the most recent Rut times and residents had changed and so did services, to include state-of-the-art gym equipment and supervised online education for transferable college credits. 

Ms. Venable saw to her bottom line by providing these high-value services at minimal cost to the Home. On-site round-the-clock medical care was provided by a pretty young nurse-midwife barely out of school, at a fraction of the cost of an experienced physician. Gestation, delivery and postpartum classes were provided by the same employee, Nurse Leigh, at no additional pay. Educational supervision was provided by Ms. Venable herself, at the handsome consulting fee she charged to the Home.

Nurse Leigh was a sweet-tempered and pretty thing, barely older than the boys she tended to. Though she was not their usual brash type, every one of the boys would have made it his business to get into her panties, if not for the Rut. Neither her trim waist or plush lips enticed a one, and not even her cleavage incited not a single erection from the Bucks. Nevertheless, the boys enjoyed her class as a chance to cut loose under the supervision of a less steely instructor than the austere Ms. Venable.

“Is it true Buck seasons are getting longer?” asked Jamie.

Forrest, the newest resident added, “Before I came here, I heard there are Bucks getting pregnant again and again and again. Like maybe we’ll never go back to the way we were before.”

“We don’t know enough,” answered Nurse Leigh. “There are so many individual differences. Some Bucks go out of season after delivery, some don’t. It may seem random, but it must surely serve an evolutionary purpose.”

“I don’t think it’s random,” said Jamie. “I just wonder how the Rut picks us.”

At the back of the room, Ms. Venable made her presence known by clearing her throat. “The Rut does not ‘pick’ at all. The Rut is not sentient. It is simply a force of nature. And as is all nature, it is ‘red in tooth and claw,’ as Lord Tennyson instructs us. It is our obligation to bring it to order.”
Her words were crisply enunciated, with each syllable given its own due.

The boys shifted in their seats as Ms. Venable strode to the front of the class where she approached the young midwife. “You indulge the worst antics of these boys, Nurse Leigh.”

“It’s just –” stammered the blushing midwife. “I like to end class with an open forum so the boys can ask the questions on their minds.”

“And what questions remain?” asked Ms. Venable, arching an eyebrow at the assembled jocks.

“I wanna know,” said Jamie, blushing and fidgeting awkwardly under Ms. Venable’s withering gaze, “when Stags... uh… breed... why do they make so much… stuff?”

“The amount of semen generated in breeding is not material to the purpose of this class,” said Ms. Venable crisply. “It will not aid your gestation or delivery, nor will it help return you to your normal life afterwards.”

“But,” began Nurse Leigh, wary of Ms. Venable’s temper, “it is an aspect of evolutionary competition.”

“The problem lies in Bucks, such as yourselves,” Ms. Venable said, in resignation that the topic would not be put to rest. “Bucks are quite promiscuous, breeding with as many Stags as they can in short order…”

“Got THAT right!” boomed Abe, pumping a fist in the air.

“This is the competitive nature of the Buck,” continued Ms. Venable, “to be bred by as many Stags as possible. The Stag, in turn, is driven to beat other Stags to reproduction. To this end, they produce a quantity of semen adequate not only to impregnate any Buck, but also to flush out the seed of any competing Stag that may have immediately preceded them, leaving only theirs to impregnate the Buck in question.”

The boys all went silent, captivated by visions of muscular Stags breeding them, one after another, with overflowing quantities of baby-making semen. Even the most pregnant Buck maintained a fever-pitch biological need to keep breeding.

“Why do my tits hurt?” groaned Abe, breaking the silence. He rubbed a thick pec with one hand, and cupped his twin-swollen belly with the other.

“Milk production,” said Nurse Leigh, “is a perfectly natural aspect of pregnancy. If you’ll recall from a previous class, the milk gland in the male grows under the muscle layer, stretching it to result in the pronounced pectorals of Bucks.”

“It’s pronounced tits,” laughed Stu, cupping his heaving pecs and teasing at each nipple with his fingertips.

Ms. Venable shot the Stag Buck an icy glare. “Will your vulgar vocabulary serve you when you return to college?” she asked.

“We don’t do vocabulary at gun school!” laughed Stu, popping his biceps and shifting into a bodybuilding pose from his seat.

“You call those guns?” asked Abe, spreading his arms wide and flexing to swell his biceps to the size of cantaloupes.

The other boys hooted, their puckers twitching at the sight of Stu and Abe’s competitive muscle displays. Dean reached out and ran a fingertip over Stu’s meaty arm, but the Stag Buck shrugged him off and said dismissively, “You smell weird.”

Every other boy but Stu laughed, and Dean muttered, “Don’t tease me, bro.”

Abe slapped Dean on the back. “You smell okay to me, bro!”

“When your season has passed,” continued Ms. Venable in loud firm tones to regain order, “your families will of course expect you to resume your studies.” She eyed Dean, and recalled he was a rare exception in the Home, a boy from the military, adding, “Most of you.”

“Chad is going back to law school,” said Jamie. “He’s going to go to court so Stags and Bucks can get married.”

“GAY!” scoffed Abe, who then burped.

“As you all know,” said Ms. Venable, “restrictions on marriage for young men in Rut are necessary safeguards to protect you from the long term consequences of hasty decisions made in season, so you may return to your normal states… unencumbered.”

Jamie sighed. Chad rolled his jaw and looked out the window. Abe scratched an itch in his armpit, prompting Stu to laugh, which made Dean lick his lips. Forrest’s stomach growled.

Ms. Venable noted each reaction with something approaching disdain. Her eyes narrowed, and she counted her tally again. “Where is the other one?” she asked, placing a finger behind each ear to push them forward, to indicate Joey’s jug ears.

“Oh yeah, Joey didn’t feel so good,” said Abe. “He’s sleeping. I think it’s like morning sickness.”

Morning sickness indeed, thought Ms. Venable sourly, knowing he was much too far along in his pregnancy for that. She declined to investigate further, lest it result in the need to manage what she might discover. But still, she wondered what the brats were up to now.

***

At that very moment, Joey walked the streets of the small commercial strip of Cody, California. Its greatest claim to fame, other than the Venable Home, was a small all-boys’ college, which resulted in the modest marketplace of fast food sources, convenience stores and sports gear. In summer, when most students vacated Cody, half the shops on the strip shut down for the season. But after so many weeks in the isolated Home, it felt like a bustling metropolis to Joey, even with so few people on the streets.

Before he was claimed by the Rut, Joey’s tight white tank top would have drawn eyes to his muscled shoulders or bulging biceps, but in Cody all anyone looked at was his pregnant beach-ball belly. It was easy to forget in the Home that even during a Rut cycle, pregnant men were still a rarity in the world at large, Though the college itself might have quite a few, due to the Rut’s bias for in college-age athletes, any knocked-up jocks from the school would likely be on leave before they showed. Among the locals in a small town like Cody there could easily be none. 

Joey stopped at The Cock & Bull, which served mostly configurations of fried chicken and burger meals. Despite the hunger in his belly, his eyes automatically scanned the crowd for Stags.

There were a few guys who looked the part, with thick necks, muscular builds and masculine jawlines, but Joey had no physical reaction to any. Hell, if they were Stags, they’d have been after his tail the minute he walked in. It was the guy behind the counter who got Joey’s attention. Joey glanced at the name tag clipped to his thin t-shirt. Randy.

He was tall and well built, a little older than the rest of the guys there, in his mid twenties. With a few more years to his advantage he was more masculine, more brawny. More of a man. He looked like he was packing too, a fat bulge in his snug jeans, maybe Stag sized. But despite ihs appearance, Joey detected no Stag pheromone reaction in his own body.

Randy’s eyes traced over Joey’s pregnant belly. His gaze lingered and only slowly raised up to Joey’s eyes. “Know what you want?” he asked.

“Yeah, a few cheeseburgers. Like… three,” answered the pregnant Buck. But looking around, he saw how small the burgers were, just little fast-food bites, not the big-ass burgers at the Home. “How many do you eat?”

“Two or three,” shrugged Randy.

“Make it nine, then,” said Joey. “Nine cheeseburgers.”

Joey’s chest throbbed as he watched Randy write the order and hand the ticket to the kitchen. Randy’s muscled arms flexed slightly as he tapped the keys on the cash register, and his pecs rose as he told Joey the price. There was something so close to the tell tale Stag scent.

Joey paid for the burgers and asked, “Hey, have you seen any… uh, guys? Like me?” He held his arm out to indicate his belly.

“Oh yeah,” said Randy. “Little guy. Hard to miss.” His eyes glanced again at Joey’s belly. “Always with the construction worker?”

“Do you know where I could find them?” Joey asked. The reference to a construction worker confused him a little, but that was a question to puzzle on later.

“I don’t know, man,” Randy shrugged. “Probably down in Elysian Fields neighborhood. A lot of single local guys live there.”

“The what?” asked Joey.

“Elysian Fields. Some old professor named half the streets in the ‘50s.”

“Huh, okay. Thanks,” said Joey. Stay focused, he told himself. He looked at Randy again and inhaled, looking for Stag musk. In another time he’d have tried to elicit more of a response. Draw the Stag out of him. But for now he had things to do. “See you around.”

In the Elysian Fields neighborhood, Joey found rows of humble apartment buildings. They all looked identical, just brick-walled cubes with no street presence or personality, and only small windows that revealed nothing of the lives inside. Less than humble, but maybe the best they could do on Brodie’s pay doing construction in a small town.

In the weeks after he became a Buck, before he came to the Home, Joey was fucked by so many Stags he couldn’t remember them all. He couldn’t even guess which one dumped a fawn in him, and he didn’t care. He just wanted their loads in him, and as soon as they were done he was on to the next.

But he’d felt something missing ever since he saw Brodie take Lane away. Though he’d distracted himself with Abe and the other new guys, being so close to Brodie’s home now, the missing something grew into a pit so big Joey felt it threatened to swallow him whole.

“Brodie, Brodie, Brodie,” muttered Joey. “Where the fuck are you, Brodie bro?”

Joey closed his eyes and simply breathed. He tried to put the scent of greasy cheeseburgers out of his mind. He pictured Brodie walking right into the Venable Home, jerking down his workpants and fucking Lane without giving a thought to anyone else there. What a fucking stud. Joey’s cock strained against his shorts and oozed precum just from the memory.

Following nothing but his senses and intuition, Joey stepped forward, eyes closed, cock first. He walked with one hand outstretched until he felt an impulse to turn. After several minutes of this, his outstretched hand touched something solid. He opened his eyes to see a door, and to its side a weathered metal plate that read 632 Elysian Fields. It looked no different than any of the other nondescript buildings, but it felt different.

Joey had planned to play it cool. Offer the guys some burgers, see where he could get from there. But standing there, he could almost taste Brodie’s presence in the air. His eyes rolled back and the absence in him gaped. He looked up to the second story, and any pretense of cool evaporated.

“Brodie!” called Joey. ”Brodie!!!” He waited, and then wailed out loud. “HEY BRODIE!!!”

Joey’s guts churned as he walked into the building on quaking legs, and like a bloodhound knew with certainty the invisible path he was on, leading to the precise door. He was so certain that without knocking, he turned the knob and opened it. The door opened only a half-inch, secured with a standard chain lock. On the other side of the door he could hear wet smacking sounds that squelched any rational thoughts. “Brodie...” he moaned out loud.

He rested a beefy shoulder against the door and pushed. The door was cheap and hollow and the lock flimsy, and it creaked against him. He positioned himself again and threw his full weight at the door a second time, centering his force on his shoulder. He shoved again a third time and the chain lock jerked free and the door swung wide open.

Inside, Lane was on his knees and elbows, his heavily pregnant belly nearly scraping the floor. Behind him, lost in a deep rut, Brodie slammed his fat Stag cock deep into his Buck, again and again. Joey could see playing across Brodie’s sweaty face his hard breeding Stag nature, near snorting, and his protective affection for his Buck softening his eyes and brows. The constant push and pull of his primal impulses seethed in him, and through his Stag cock into Lane.

Barely cognizant beyond his own urgent instincts, Joey dropped his backpack and the bag of burgers to the floor, nearly staggering. Near constant exposure to Stu let Joey function reasonably in the presence of the Stag Buck, but being in the presence of Brodie and his full Rut musk was more than Joey could take. He shoved a hand under his belly into his wet shorts to feel his anus, pulsing for Brodie.

Drenched in his own sweat as he took Brodie’s Stag cock deep, Lane almost laughed at the sight of Joey. He shouldn’t have had any reason to expect Joey, but somehow it didn’t surprise him at all. Now that he’d arrived it seemed so obvious, Lane wondered why he’d taken so long.

Despite his Rut trance, Brodie responded less to the sight of Joey and more to the scent of a fresh Buck in need of breeding, despite his pregnant state. It made Brodie groan and his erection swell inside Lane, quickening his fuck pace, urging Lane’s body body to slam back on him, drawing the Stag cock deeper into him, seeking primacy in the face of a challenger Buck.

Brodie gulped and opened his mouth with a longing gasp, torn with desire for both the new Buck and the one whose breeding hole he was lodged in. He moaned and quivered and his balls swelled as they forced the start of a hot load into his Lane’s tight hole. His open mouth yearned for Joey’s tits, but once his ejaculation began he was locked in and couldn’t separate from his Buck for anything. 

As Brodie’s load pumped into Lane, the smaller Buck’s cock sprayed his own cum onto the floor. He dropped his face to the floor as Brodie continued to pump his Stag load into him over the course of at least several minutes, enough to fill him and more, gushing out onto the floor. 

Joey slumped back against the wall, his body trembling with desire for the spent Stag, as Brodie too fell back, breathing deeply as his Stag cock dislodged from Lane, dropping to the floor.

“Don’t take him!” Brodie pleaded, too spent to even stand. “Don’t!”

“Take him?” asked Joey, jolted halfway out of his stupor. “Take who?”

“He’s not here for me, babe,” Lane announced. “He’s here for you.”

Joey stared at Brodie’s slick half-erection and nodded Yes with desperation in his eyes.

It dawned on Brodie slowly that Joey had not come to take Lane back to the Home, but to be bred with a load like he’d just dumped into Lane. “I just… Fuck, man…”

They all three knew a Stag’s breeding is so intense, and his load so copious, that it could take a day to recover. 

“Maybe in a while…” said Brodie, trying to will his Stag cock back to full erection.

“I don’t think he can wait a while,” said Lane. “Look at him.”

Joey had thought on this for so long that it was difficult to function in the sight of Brodie, and in the scent of breeding. His shorts were wet with Buck lube, and his eyebrows knitted together with longing and need.

“Don’t you want to fuck that big pregnant Buck?” Lane asked Brodie. “Don’t you want to breed him again?”

“Every last one of ‘em, babe,” Brodie laughed. He’d never bred two Bucks back to back this way. He didn’t even know if it was possible, but his heavy cock strained to erection and his stomach growled.

Lane stretched out across the floor to retrieve the bag of burgers Joey dropped inside the doorway. He felt starved himself, and realized Brodie must be in much worse shape after the breeding he’d just delivered. 

He pulled a single burger out of the bag and tore open the paper wrapper. He bit off a third of the burger and chewed, licking a smear of ketchup off his thumb. The fat and salt and sugar were so satisfying and replenishing. He held the rest of the burger out.

“Brodie,” he said firmly. “EAT!”

Brodie was nearly hypnotized by the sight of Joey and his desperation, but responded to Lane’s command by turning just enough to half-heartedly bite the burger. But as the protein hit his mouth he felt his full hunger, and wolfed down the rest, nearly biting Lane’s finger too.

Lane unwrapped another and Brodie scarfed it down. With food hitting his belly his energy increased. His eyes cleared and he cracked his neck, taking another burger and then another. As his energy visibly improved, Joey knelt on the threadbare sofa, assuming a breeding position with his legs spread to give the Stag the greatest access to his hole. 

Brodie climbed up to bury his face in Joey’s ass, tonguing the thickly lubed hole. The musky flavor of Joey’s Buck lube swirled in his mouth with the salt and sweet of the burger, fueling mating desire in Brodie. As his Stag balls struggled to produce another baby-making load, he rose up, his own thick thighs strong hips made to fuck. He smeared Joey’s lube and burger grease from his mouth onto his forearm, and pressed the head of his cock against the offered hole.

Lane watched with pride and lust as Brodie sank his thick cock into Joey. Joey endured it with a long whimper of satisfaction, and when Brodie was in, the Buck let out a soft moan of relief. At balls-deep, Brodie slid back to find his best position, prompting Joe to please, “Don’t pull out… Please don’t.”

“I’m in you, bro,” replied Brodie, leaning down to kiss the back of Joey’s broad, muscular shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Brodie held Joey’s belly in one hand, and held the other out, barking, “BURGER!”

Lane gleefully tossed another that Brodie snatched midair. He ripped the paper wrapper off with his teeth and spat it out, biting off half the burger, chewing it lustfully and swallowing, all the time building a pump into Joey’s ass. He reached forward to hold the other half near Joey’s panting mouth. “Go on,” he said to the Buck. “You’re gonna need it.”

Lane was so proud of his Stag for rising to the challenge. He could watch Brodie breed Bucks all day, and it was all the better to see it happen to his own bro Joey, but seeing Brodie feed a Buck with the food he must need himself had him at full erection again.

Joey roughly chewed on the burger as Brodie picked up his pace. By the time Joey swallowed, Brodie slammed him so hard the sofa under him jerked back and forth. “You wanna get knocked up?” Brodie asked, as his whole body thrust hard into Joey.

“Put a baby in me,” begged Joey. The impossibility of it didn’t dampen his desire, but made it burn hotter in the already pregnant Buck.

Brodie pumped hard and clutched at Joey’s belly, driving his cock deeper in and closer to the pregnancy. Knowing it wasn’t his own fawn only fueled his desire to breed the Buck. Wild notions ran through his Rut brain, of planting a second fawn in Joey beside the first, or of making this one somehow his with a strong enough breeding. 

The flickering images of fathering a fawn in Joey gripped Brodie’s Stag nature, but however hard he wanted it, his body couldn’t generate a load. He was in a full-body sweat, and his chest heaved as he struggled to keep his breath. “Fuck… FUCK!” he cursed.

“Let me ride you,” moaned Joey.

Brodie shivered as he slid out of Joey, every overwhelming instinct driving him back into Joey’s hole, commanding him to fuck, to just fuck and fuck and fuck. But he let himself be pressed down to the floor, his painfully swollen cock upright, gushing a steady stream of precum.

"I got this,” Joey said confidently, contorting his body in a squat over Brodie. The swollen ring of his hole pulsed at the cockhead and he slid down onto the Stag’s fat baby making cock easily, groaning with satisfaction as he sank down to the balls.

“Fuuuck,” groaned Brodie as Joey began to ride him. He watched Joey’s belly full of another Stag’s fawn rise up and down, taking in his cock and begging for more. They locked eyes, and the absolute need in Joey’s gaze snared Brodie in the moment. 
  
The Stag ran a hand over Joey’s swollen pecs and propped himself up on elbow so he could latch his full lips onto one of his tits. His shift in position drove his cock even deeper, and Joey heaved as the Stag cock found new territory in him. And as Brodie sucked on his nipple he felt a wave of euphoria he’d never experienced before, not even in being bred.

“Ohmygod,” Joey moaned. “My milk…”

Brodie sucked harder, greedily drawing the milk out of Joey’s pec, swallowing it down in strong gulps. Lane watching in shock and envy whispered, “Holy fuck!”

Joey gasped with every mouthful the Stag sucked out of him, and Brodie’s erection swelled and stiffened with each gulp of the protein rich milk he swallowed.

“Breed meeeeee…” Joey begged, as Brodie pumped into him with renewed vigor, fucking the cum out of Joey’s cock, spraying him and Brodie both.

Without a word, Brodie rolled Joey over and shoved him down on the floor, without regard for his swollen belly, his knees or anything but his gaping Buck hole. Brodie thrust into Joey hard, and with the milk taste still in his mouth went full Stag, fucking like an animal in heat. He was all muscle and sweat and teeth and balls, taking this Buck as his own.

“Fuck yeah,” groaned Lane, fingering his own hole to touch what remained of Brodie’s last load in him. “You’re the biggest fucking Stag I’ve ever seen.”

Even mid-rut, Brodie responded to Lane’s voice, glancing at him and his body, distorted with Brodie’s fawn in it.

“Do it,” said Lane. “You’ve had this date coming a long time.”

Brodie snorted and his body seized up as his balls worked to push out a load. The Stag semen surged out of him and into Joey as his breath caught in his chest. He moaned as his cock pumped out a load in thick gushes, until the seed spilled out in thick streaks down Joey’s legs.

For long minutes after he was done, Brodie lay on top of Joey, his muscular, sweaty frame conforming to Joey’s big pregnant jock body, breathing hard until he laughed, kissing the Buck’s neck and shoulders. Beneath him Joey laughed, and almost cried tears of gratitude and relief.

As the two recovered, they slowly crawled apart and sat on the floor, rifling through the paper bag for any burgers that were left.

“So you live here now?” Joey asked Lane, looking around at the flimsy doors and cheap, worn counters and flimsy furniture.

“It’s not the Venable Home,” said Lane. “But yeah.” He turned to smile at Brodie and added, “I love it.”

Brodie looked at Joey with soft eyes and rested a strong hand on his thigh, saying, “Room for one more, bro.”

Joey stopped chewing and asked, “The three of us?”

Brodie nodded, and Lane did too.

Joey had not planned anything past getting there. But it seemed so right. “Yeah,” he said. “Fuck yeah!”

They all laughed and moved in closer together on the floor, easily kissing one another and tracing their fingers over each other’s bodies in a huddle of spent and satisfied flesh.

***

At that very moment, back at the Home, Abe showed Forrest and Dean the Venable gym.

“They say state-of-the-art,” scoffed Abe. “But I’ve seen better.” He popped a bicep just for fun, and looked to see if the new guys noticed. 

“Are you guys…” began Forrest, hesitantly. “Are you going to use the pain meds?”

“For what?” asked Dean.

“For delivery!” gasped Forrest.

“Not me,” said Abe. “They say when you deliver, you blow the biggest load of your life. I’m not missing out on that.” He cupped his crotch and his cock stiffened. “‘Specially with twins. Probably set a record.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” shrugged Dean.

“You will,” said Forrest, glancing at Dean’s flat belly. “You’re not even showing yet.”

Dean slyly looked at Abe, whose hand was still on his erection. “Hey bro, I could help you out with that.”

Abe chuckled and said, “About fucking time, buddy.”

The football stud began to undo his shorts when he heard a familiar sound of throat clearing behind him.

Ms. Venable stood at the back of the gym, with her usual icy demeanor.

“I will need to see YOU in my office,” she said, nodding at Dean.

“Aw fuck,” Dean muttered as he turned to exit the gym.

“You other two, up to dinner,” added Ms. Venable in her most crisp tone. “At once.”

As she turned to follow Dean out, Abe sighed, having lost another fuck opportunity.

“Too bad,” offered Forrest.

“Whatever,” said Abe. “It’s cool. Tomorrow is Sunday Stu.”

 

- End, Chapter Four, Milk -