The interior of the main barn was cool, thick with the scent of dried sweet hay and the heavy, musky pheromones of the herd. Thanks to Lassy’s relentless, high-intensity barking, the chaotic scramble that usually defined a milking session had been completely erased.
Daisy, Bessie, and Clover were lined up in perfect, uniform succession against the wooden stanchions. They stood with their heads bowed, their massive, cow-spotted thighs trembling with anticipation as their heavy tails twitched in absolute rhythm.
Lassy stood at the head of the line, her posture rigid, her fluffy collie ears alert, and her clipboard tucked under her arm. "Line formed, Alpha! All assets accounted for and properly secured!"
"Excellent work, Lassy," Sister Isabella purred, stepping into the barn with the slow, deliberate stride of a true proprietor.
She didn't waste a single moment. Moving down the line with practiced, structural efficiency, Isabella systematically tended to the three voluptuous cow-girls. She milked them with a firm, unyielding dominance, drawing out the heavy, sweet cream that had been building up all morning. Daisy whimpered, Bessie lowed, and Clover practically melted against the wooden boards, their massive chests jiggling in absolute, cross-eyed relief as the intense physical pressure was drained from their bodies.
But the irrigation process was only half the contract.
Once the copper buckets were foaming and full, Isabella stepped back into the center of the aisle. She reached down, calmly gathered the heavy black wool of her habit, and hoisted it up to her waist. With a proud, fluid motion, she unleashed the fully awakened, glistening monster of a curse into the dim light of the barn. It stood towering, a furnace-hot pillar of absolute authority, pulsing aggressively with a dark, demonic vitality.
"Now," Isabella commanded, her voice a velvety, low-register growl. "Return the favor. In an orderly manner."
Daisy was the first to scramble forward, dropping eagerly to her knees to receive the colossal "shepherd's staff."
Standing at the front of the barn, Lassy’s clipboard instantly slipped from her fingers, clattering loudly against the dirt floor. The collie-girl’s amber eyes blew completely wide, her pupils dilating into massive black pools as her jaw dropped in sheer, unadulterated shock. Her fluffy ears pinned flat against her head, and her bushy tail went entirely rigid.
She had been hired to herd livestock. She had not been prepared for the sight of a senior Catholic nun possessing a colossal, hyper-potent asset, let alone using it to aggressively breed her dairy workforce in a synchronized rotation.
Isabella maintained her absolute, rhythmic control. She didn't shy away from her hound’s stunned gaze. As Daisy enthusiastically swallowed the massive crown, letting out thick, muffled lowing noises of pure submission, Isabella casually turned her head toward the trembling collie-girl.
"Father Thomas is entirely unaware that I am 'the stud' of this parish," Isabella instructed, her voice completely smooth, calm, and conversational despite the fact that her hips were driving deep into the submissive cow-girl beneath her.
Lassy swallowed hard, her nose twitching violently as the sweet, weaponized succubus pheromones flooded her senses, making her own canine core throb with a sudden, desperate heat.
Isabella’s eyes flashed with a dark, wicked smirk as she leaned back, letting out a low grunt as the curse throbbed against Daisy's throat. "If you want your turn in the rotation, Lassy... it will stay that way."
Lassy stared at the magnificent, pulsing display of dominance, her fluffy tail suddenly starting to wag at a frantic, low-to-the-ground speed. She dropped to one knee to retrieve her clipboard, her eyes locked onto Isabella with deep, eternal devotion.
“M-Mistress...” Lassy whimpered, her ears twitching with eager submission. "My lips are completely sealed. Just... please tell me when my shift begins."
Isabella maintained her absolute, rhythmic control. She didn't waste a single motion as she conducted the rest of the rotation. Shifting smoothly from Daisy, she directed the next submissive bovine to take her place. Bessie scrambled forward with an eager, heavy low, dropping onto the hay to open her thick, cow-spotted thighs wide for her superior.
With a powerful, decisive thrust, Isabella drove her massive "rod of discipline" deep into Bessie's slick, waiting heat, keeping her eyes locked onto Lassy to ensure the lesson in hierarchy was fully absorbed.
Lassy stood completely frozen, her clipboard held tight against her chest as her fluffy ears twitched with every wet, echoing impact. She watched in rapt, breathless fascination as Isabella systematically rotated through the three desperate cow-girls, filling each of them in a strict, orderly sequence until the barn was thick with the scent of sweet clover and pure, unadulterated submission.
Once the final, explosive torrent of liquidity had been thoroughly delivered and the trio of heifers were left slumped happily against the wooden stanchions, Isabella stepped back. She pulled a clean linen cloth from her pocket, calmly wiping down the glistening, heavy length of her asset as it slowly began to recede into a comfortable, dormant state under her habit.
"Listen to me carefully, girls," Isabella announced, adjusting her silver crucifix and smoothing down her black robes until she once again looked like the picture of pious elegance. "When the stonemasons arrive next week to begin the building project on the new Discipline Annex, the noise will be substantial. For your own comfort, you will be relocated temporarily to the upper meadows."
"Anything you say, Mistress," Clover whimpered from the hay, her eyes still glazed over with cross-eyed bliss.
"Excellent. Lassy, gather your things. We are returning to the cloisters," Isabella commanded, turning on her heel.
"Y-yes, Alpha! Right behind you!" Lassy barked, her boots clicking rapidly against the dirt floor as she eagerly trotted after her majestic new superior, her mind completely consumed by the countdown to her own upcoming shift.