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Hypnorgasm
>> #381155
Posted on 2020-08-08 08:38:05
Score: 0 (vote Up)
FurAffinity user dolphinsanity wrote a story to go with this:
Farmer Harat found himself quite enjoying this day's easygoing flow: his cast-iron cauldron brewing a whole new batch of his specialty potions in his workshop, while he sat down on the dock mending some netting for the aquatic livestock pen.

What with all the hubbub about Old Draenor and the Burning Legion, people paid little attention to the more mundane goings-on in Westfall. A new farm going up along the coast passed without much fuss: just some other washed up adventurer settling down. Furthermore, since he was a draenei, most uncultured people already stereotyped him as one of those funny, Light-preaching space-goats. The fact he wasn't trotting around in glowing platemail declaring the importance of retribution against the Legion made him "good people" or at least "acceptable people" by the standards of his distant neighbors.

Beyond that, few people asked him many questions, and he liked it that way. He liked to put his focus - and his rather unique set of abilities - on the farm life at hand.

Ding. Ding-a-ling-ling!

Harat heard the sound and glanced up at the sun. Was it really that time already? The afternoon had gotten away from him.

On most farms the rancher signalled the livestock to gather for activities like milking, but for his most unique specimen of livestock he had devised a somewhat more... proactive system for accomplishing this. In this system, the livestock rang the bell when it knew the milk was ready to be drawn.

Following the now-quite-ingrained habits of years of daily training and ritual, a muscular green naga was pulling his long, fishy-snake body out of the water and reclining limply over the dock. He was truly quite a catch: long enough to be mistaken for part of a sea serpent, and so sinuous he could break an intruder's neck with ease if need be... not that the need had ever arose.

A stock animal that could both defend itself and report in for milking - what wasn't to like?

As usual, the draenei withdrew from his pocket the blue-glowing magical pendant that he normally used as a... communicative focus, of sorts, in his interactions with the serpentine male.

And male indeed the naga was; there was no udder in need of milking here. A pair of meaty green cocks rose already-hard from where his humanoid torso met his serpent lower half. A ready body indeed.

"That's a good fella. Now pose!" instructed Harat, as he always did.

The naga flexed both of his arms in a front lat spread, which made the draenei grin at first - but then shake his head.

"You did that one yesterday," the draenei reminded him. "Pose again!"

The naga did not seem at all offended by being asked to try again. If anything, he approached the next attempt with even more flair, pulling his left arm behind the frills of his head and back and resting to one side along his right shoulder and elbow.

The pose was an undeniable success: cute and sexy at the same time. The naga's placid eyes were resonating blue from the amulet's influence, but they looked up at the farmer in great anticipation.

"That's a good guy. Now, hold it right there while I milk you."

The draenei's purposes in the posing were twofold. In the first place, it was tent-making to look at for his own sensibilities - and, in the second, he figured that if his special potions ever ran out of commercial viability, he'd at least have a posing-trained naga he could sell off to a sideshow... though, given how much he enjoyed the first reason, he doubted he would ever want to invoke the second.

Regardless, what was important right now was drawing the milk from those two long rods while the naga flexed for him like a good stud-cow. To that end, the draenei straddled the naga's hips, casually taking hold of one shaft with each hand. The naga followed his training beautifully, allowing the draenei continuous access to stroke up and down those shafts. Unable to fully encompass them, Harat's hands made a C-shape around each of their girths, using a firm grip to apply sensual pressure. The members were both already coated in a natural lubricant similar to fish oil, allowing Harat to massage them at a glide.

Even at the slow, teasing pace the draenei was using, it didn't take long before the naga's climbing arousal became physically evident. The creature breathed deeper and harder, his abs and pectorals moving slowly up and down like the waves of the sea from which he had been caught. His head struggled to remain stationary, and this wobbliness led to more twitching and flexing in his frame. The way his nerves wrestled with the pleasure made the draenei grin; the way the nerves made the muscles dance, even more so.

The draenei picked up the pace and heard the cum-stud letting out soft hisses with woven-in guttural components. The naga's expression remained mostly serene, but his body's excitement continued to climb: his hips rocked faster in rhythmic opposition to the draenei's motions, and the veins on both his muscles and his members grew subtly more pronounced as his pulse and blood pressure climbed in an all-natural, home-grown fashion.

"That's it, big guy... let out that secret ingredient for the next batch. Let it all out."

The naga growled loudly and more harshly, his face twisting and his hips rising in reflex as he reached the point of no return. The desired "milk" fountained out of him, rolling down the sides of his twin shafts and spurting onto the scaly belly below. Harat kept rubbing, gently coaxing out every drop, and keeping the shafts angled so that puddling along the groin and belly would be encouraged as much as possible.

With his face going passive again a moment later, but with his eyes and whole stature now trembling from the bliss of orgasm, the naga remained in the commanded pose, his arms and abs twitching now and then as the draenei kept working at him. The climactic growl likewise faded into low, contented breaths, which sounded like hisses that simply couldn't muster the ferocity to be worthy of that term right now.

"Keep the pose," the draenei reminded. "That's a good stud."

A goofy, narrow smile spread over the front of the naga's face as he felt the uplifting emotions of what a good livestock-monster he was, and what a good load he had made for Master to milk.

Now, each glans was glazed white with the cum-dregs which Harat had squeezed out, and the naga's eyes kept their up that glaze of their own: blue-glowing, peaceful, so very right-feeling and contented.

"Hold steady." The draenei stood and swung his left leg free of the naga's midsection, before reaching into his vest for what looked like a relatively ordinary alchemical vial. Uncorking it and turning it upside down, Harat spoke a few words of magic - and the vial developed a vacuum of pressure with that allowed it to suck up the spilled semen with ease, with the draenei moving its opening carefully over the cum-painted portions of the naga's body.

After corking this newest bottle of reagent and returning it to his pocket, the farmer leaned down to give the naga three slow pets on the chest and a cute bump nose-to-nose. The naga shivered from Master's attention and licked a forked tongue over the spot that had been nudged, tasting the flavor of Master's skin and being filled with happy associations by it.

They gazed at each other for several seconds longer, and then Harat gave his final command for the session: "Back into the water with you, big guy."

The naga followed the command with dramatic eagerness, pushing hard off the dock's surface with his strong arms and splashing headfirst into the water on the opposite side from where he had risen. His spent members and meaty, scaly tail followed suit, his whole body tracing a path up and over the dock's surface before descending into the brine once more.

Harat smiled, enjoying the way his bulge waxed and waned as he made his way back to his workshop. Potions for transforming into nagas were a novel commodity, but one he had been able to make quite a profit from with little effort. After all, adventurers always clamored for anything that would give them a new experience.

As for telling his customers they were drinking a concoction of naga semen - well, he preferred to leave that bit out. He did always warn them, though, that he would not be held responsible in the event of a more permanent change.

The draenei stirred the alchemical pot and thoughtfully considered when he would next release himself. Since this most recent collection would put him at a good level of stock, perhaps he would have to let the naga help him out tomorrow, and give the naga a... less-commercialized release, in return.

Harat stirred and stirred, letting the warmth of the process fill him.
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