By Ed Rider Many thanks to HMAuthor for all the hard work in editing and improving this story from a previous version. Brad was like a giant rag doll being dragged along the floor. Bob was on one side of him, and Jake was on the other. They were holding him under his shoulders while his feet trailed behind them.
When he was able to lift his head for a few seconds, Brad could see what he called the three C's at least when he wasn't using the full c-word. He knew it was them, because their firm round rears were bouncing in their tight-fitting jeans and getting him hard, even as drunk as he was. He knew they hated the nickname he called them, but he didn't care. He didn't care much what anybody in the Animal Husbandry 101 class thought about him.
The two guys were strong, but he was bigger and stronger. As for the three girls, Sammie, Sally and Molly, they were hot, and he wanted them, whether they wanted him or not. Three weeks into the semester, he hadn't gotten anywhere with them, except crude fondling and mauling whenever one of them got close enough.
They had learned within the first few days what a Neanderthal he was, but they were all farm girls, so they never reported him. For them, he was just a stupid, ornery bull, like some of the troublesome animals they had to deal with growing up. They stayed out of his way, and they talked to each other about how to break and tame the wild bull, but they hadn't come up with any ideas until today. Actually, Brad was the one who had found their solution for them.
After an exhausting day of learning how to use the artificial cow from New Zealand, the six of them were relaxing in the break room with some beers. As usual, Brad was loud and rude, and as he tossed back beer after beer, he became increasingly abusive.
"You three C's need to be mounted by a real bull," he said with a nasty leer, "just like those bulls we brought to the fake cow today. I'm the only real bull in the room who can satisfy you. Are you ready to take a look at what I'm going to put under your tail.
Come over here, and I'll show you." He laughed his loud, ugly laugh. "Before this class is over, I'm going to mount each of you, just like those bulls mounted that cow. And then you can collect my specimen." He laughed even louder. His five classmates sat at a table on the other side of the room sipping their beers and talking quietly, trying to ignore him. But during his last tirade, Sally sat up straight and gave her attention to him. As she listened, a smile came over her face.
She turned to the other four. "I've got it," she said, and she began laughing. "I know what we're going to do with Brad to shut him up. Starting tomorrow, he's going to be as cooperative as a trained dog." "What are you talking about?" asked Molly.
"He just gave me the idea," said Sally. "Help me work out the details." As she had predicted, Brad got things started when he fell out of his chair onto the floor. That's when they knew he was so drunk that he wouldn't be any trouble. Now the two boys were dragging him down the hall to the animal pens while the three girls were walking ahead and discussing their plan. "Just a second," said Sally, stopping the group. "I've got to get something." She ran down a side hall and came back holding the two video cameras and tripods they were using to film some experiments in one of the classrooms.
They continued dragging Brad until they reached the large, empty room with the device from New Zealand. It was simple. The foundation was a souped-up go-kart, with a solid, steel roof. On top of the roof was a sturdy metal platform that was completely covered in cowhide.
In the back of the platform, there was a hole through the cowhide, and inside the hole was something soft and flesh-like for the bull's pleasure.
Someone would operate the go-kart, and when a bull was brought in, the slowly moving kart with the artificial vagina would entice the bull and arouse him, and the bull would try to mount it. By maneuvering the kart, the operator would position it for the bull to insert his penis into the artificial cow vagina.
Then the bull would thrash on top of the kart and give up a specimen, which went down the fake vagina into a receptacle.
That was how it worked when all went smoothly. Some bulls were bashful bulls, or at least they couldn't produce their semen without extra stimulation. They had to be sedated so that the students could handle them, and then the students used other methods to get results. One was hand manipulation of the bull's anatomy.
This involved massaging the testicles, but also something that only an aggie would ever do, reaching into the bull's anus and finding his ampullae and prostrate and massaging those. The girls didn't bat an eye when it was their turn. They were proud that their manipulations were so effective that the bashful bulls gave up their specimens almost instantly.
They joked with Bob and Jake that they would do the same for them if the boys ever needed to produce a specimen. They learned this technique even though it was rarely used now. Instead there was a device that looked like a vibrator that was inserted into a bull's anus and turned on to provide electric stimulation.
It worked almost every time, and hand insertion was only resorted to in the rare cases when the bull didn't respond to the electric device. Bob and Jake pulled the cowhide off the top of the artificial cow, and everybody looked at the structure underneath.
There was a heavy iron scaffold attached to the roof of the go-kart, and on top of that was the metal platform that the bull came down on. Attached to the scaffold was the artificial vagina. "It's gonna work," yelled Sally, and the girls began giggling. "Wow!" said Jake. "I don't know," said Bob. "OK, Bob and Jake, lift him up," said Sally. The two men raised Brad in the air and pushed him between the pipes of the scaffold on the roof of the go-kart. Once inside the structure, he looked like he was in a jail cell.
He began thrashing as they lay him on his back. The girls climbed up next to Brad, and Sammie unbuckled his belt, while Sally and Molly pulled off his boots and tugged at his pants legs. Soon the jeans were flying onto the floor, followed by his boxers.
They left his socks on. "He looks more ridiculous that way," explained Sally, and the girls laughed. Brad tried to resist as they turned him onto his stomach. Jake climbed up and pushed Brad's head and chest down as the three girls lifted his bottom up and pushed his knees under him.
They maneuvered him toward the back of the kart, lifting his rear until he was right next to the receptacle. His legs were spread apart until his anus was at exactly the same height as the fleshy funnel that accepted the bull. They detached the device from the frame and moved him back, so his anus would line up with the hole in the cowhide. "This is gonna work," shouted Sally triumphantly.
Brad moaned. "Not so fast," said Bob. "The next part is the hardest." He and Jake got some rope and tied Brad to the iron piping. Most of the rope was around his chest, but they placed some rags where the rope touched his naked skin to prevent rope burns.
He could now move the upper part of his body a little, but his rear was immobile. They stepped back from the go-kart and looked up at Brad. "Wow!" said Jake. "Let's get going," said Sammie. "Sally, you get some cushions for his head. Molly, you get the equipment. Jake, Bob and I need to sedate Mr. Big Stuff and bring him here." They all hurried off. Sally heard Brad bellowing as they came back to the specimen collecting room.
He had sobered up enough to discover his position, and he realized how he got there. His curses mingled with demands for them to set him free. Sally walked around to where his head was facing, and when he saw her, the curses got louder and nastier "Brad," she said quietly, but he ignored her.
She tried again twice and then yelled at him, "No one can hear you because there's nobody here but us. If you don't shut up, I'm not going to tell you what we're doing." She walked away. Brad tried to spit at her and resumed his yelling and cursing. But in a few minutes, he stopped.
Then, in a normal voice, he said, "Come back, Sally." Sally heard him, and walked back in front of him, carrying the two large couch cushions. "Lift your head, Brad," she said, "and I'll put one of these under your head.
It will be a lot more comfortable than the hard metal." He lifted his head as she came up to him, and she placed one pillow under it. Standing next to him, she said, "Now turn your head this way so you can look at me and talk to me without smothering yourself." As he turned his head, she took the other large pillow and stuffed it on the other side of his head, between his head and some pipes. It effectively prevented him from turning his head in that direction.
He could now only put his face straight down into a pillow or turn it sideways in her direction. "What are you doing?" he yelled again but stopped when she told him to quiet down. "We are conducting an experiment," she told him calmly. "It's an experiment in animal husbandry, human physiology and human psychology.
Remember, Mr. Big Stuff, the shy bull who wouldn't mate with this artificial cow the other day? We're going to try to mate him with you, using what worked on him the other day. And we've set up the video cameras to record our experiment. The human psychology part involves behavior modification and starts after we finish the physical experiment." Brad listened to her in stunned silence. "So the five of you are going to kill me," he said after a moment. "That's murder.
No human can survive the weight of that bull." "Don't be stupid, Brad. You aren't going to be killed, only humiliated. You are in the middle of this thing, so you are protected by the metal scaffold on top of you, just like Bob will be while he's driving the kart.
The bull may flop on top and scare you a little, but you will only come in contact with one long part of him. And it's so long that we have to make sure that you don't take all of it in. That's why we've sedated Mr. Big Stuff." "Oh, here's Molly with the equipment and Sammie, Bob and Jake with Mr. Big Stuff. He looks very sleepy right now.
If you shut up, I will tell you what we're doing each step of the way, OK." "First, Molly is bringing me the lubricant and the long rubber tube. Do you feel my two fingers pushing the lubricant inside you?" Brad began yelling, "Help! Help!" at the top of his lungs as Sally removed her fingers and started inserting the tube. She pushed it in very slowly as the others stood next to her and watched. Whenever it seemed to come to something blocking it, she pulled it out a little, then wiggled it until it got past whatever was stopping it.
Finally, it wouldn't go in any further. "Molly, hand me that red permanent ink marker," she said. "Now I'm marking on this tube how deep you are, because we need to estimate how much of Mr. Big Stuff to put in you. We're going to have to use math because right now he's limp. But we have a record of how long he is fully extended, and we'll compare that to your depth and then calculate how much of his limp penis to put inside you.
If we put too much in, when the penis wakes up, it might push forward enough to hurt you, and we don't want that to happen." Brad looked at her questioningly.
"Yes, Brad, you are not going to be screwed by a bull. That would be too dangerous. This experiment is just to see what happens when an unstimulated bull is inserted into a loudmouthed asshole and then gets stimulated.
Now stay right here while we do some calculating." A few minutes later, his five classmates were pulling the bull toward him. "Look," said Sally, reaching down to Mr. Big Stuff's loosely hanging organ. "See where I marked him." It was a thick red circle all the way around the bull's penis, about halfway between the tip and testicles. "That corresponds to this on the tube." She pointed to a red circle that marked what seemed like an impossible length of tube.
All that couldn't have been inside him, he thought. He saw them pull the bull away from his view and he heard them grunting and breathing heavily as they moved him around.
Then came a huge crash on top of him. They had managed to lift the front part of the bull's body high enough to drop it on top of the artificial cow. He saw Bob get into the kart driver's seat below him and start the vehicle up. Slowly, he put it into reverse, while Sally was yelling instructions from the back.
The other four held the bull and moved him in combination with the reverse drive of the go-kart until most of the bull was draped over the cart and he was standing on his hind legs pushing against Brad. Bob stopped the kart and got out and looked approvingly at what he saw. An out-of-breath Sally began talking again. "Whew! We've got him lined up at the spot," she said.
"Now comes the hard part. You can thank Molly for this part of the experiment. Let's see if it works." He saw Molly going toward the rear end of the bull with some stuff in her hand.
When she sat down, he could no longer see her. In a few minutes, he heard some whistling and clapping, and Sally announced to him, "She did it. Molly found some thin rubber tubing, almost as thin as those straws in cocktails. It's pretty stiff, but slightly flexible. She tied one end to Mr. Big Stuff's penis, close to the tip, with strong thread. The idea is for the tube to stay tied to the bull's tool but let us disconnect it at the right time.
Now we need to put a lot more lubricant inside you." The same tubing as the first time was pushed up inside him until the red mark was reached.
A funnel was inserted into the outside end of the tube, and Jake climbed up the side of the cart and lifted the funnel in the air with one hand and poured liquid from a plastic bottle into it with the other.
"We're filling you up with oil," said Sally. "It's for your own protection. OK, Jake, it looks like it's starting to back up. That's enough." Brad felt full, like after a meal, and his stomach was bulging from all the oil in his colon and intestine.
He suddenly felt something else. It was big and thick, and it was going slowly through the oil into him. "We're starting to put Mr. Big Stuff into you," said Sally. "Molly's tubing is working great. She's pushing it in, and it's pulling Mr. Big Stuff in with it. We're going to do this very slowly even though you've got a ton of oil in you and Mr. Big Stuff's thing is pretty flabby right now. So there's no danger." The thing may have been flabby, but it seemed to get thicker the further in it went, and Brad began squirming and grunting.
Sally leaned down to his ear and whispered, "That's great, Brad. I've got cameras focused on your face and ass and a microphone at each end, so the more sound and expression you can give us, the better this production is going to be." After that he tried to control himself, but he realized that the facial expressions he made while trying not to make expressions were probably worse than before and so were the little pants and squeaks he made when he tried to stop grunting.
Finally, the horrible stretching feeling inside him just took over, and he didn't even realize that he was violently shaking his rear trying to push out the invader while he was roaring out his anger. It took about five minutes, and then there was applause again and some whistles. "It's all the way in to the red mark," said Sally. "It's only a percentage of the distance of the tube, but we're allowing for expansion. Now bear with us because Molly's going to start wiggling the little tube tied to Mr.
Big Stuff." He felt a fluttering from the rim of his anus to deep inside of him. It went on for a few minutes until Molly yelled out, "It's off." "Great," said Sally. "Molly managed to get the thread that tied Mr. Big Stuff to the tube loose, and now she's going to carefully pull the tube out." Brad barely felt the thin tube coming out.
It was like a little tickle beside the horrible stretching feeling. "Now, we're ready to begin the experiment," said Sally. "You've got a huge, sedated bull on top of you, and a lot of his soft organ inside of you. Can we get him to fertilize you using the methods we learned in class? First, Sammie is going to stimulate his testicles. She's reaching under the bull and massaging them.
Bob, zoom out on camera two so you can see her and her hands and still see Brad's stuffed rear. If this works, we should start getting some reaction from Mr. Big Stuff and Brad, too." Brad felt nothing for a few minutes, but then inside him, he started to feel a slight expansion and a slight hardening. At least he thought so. He thought it might be his imagination, but real or not, the discomfort level was growing. He was now panting and grimacing.
"Success," said Sally. "Now, Molly is going to do the most disgusting part. She gets extra credit for this. She's lifting up Mr. Big Stuff's tail with one hand.
The other hand has a rubber glove on it that goes all the way up to her shoulder, and she's sticking it into Mr.
Big Stuff's asshole looking for the two important organs. "I think I found them," said Molly. "I'm beginning to massage them." Brad felt the bull shifting over him, and for the first time, he heard breath coming from the bull's nostrils. He began to feel like a rubber balloon was being blown up inside him.
It hurt all over, but especially right at his anus. The tip of Mr. Big Stuff's organ also seemed to be pushing out and deeper into him.
It was going so high that it felt like it would burst through his insides and come out his mouth. He was squirming like a toad, panting like a dog and squeaking like a mouse. Something had to give, and it was the lubricant. It was being squeezed out of him like the juice from a lemon, and he heard it plopping down on the top of the go-kart. "I'm pulling my arm out of Mr.
Big Stuff's ass now," said Molly, but for Brad, there was no relief. "Mr. Big Stuff looks like he's almost as big as he can get," said Sally. "It's a good thing we didn't put more of him in you. You should see how much there is left over.
Well, so far we've managed to arouse him, but that's not enough. We've got to get his specimen, and we're going to add to the drama by getting your specimen, too, Brad.
Jake, position yourself at Mr. Big Stuff's rear with the electric stimulator. I'm going to position myself with the suction pump at Brad's penis." Until then, Brad had been totally unaware of his own equipment, so great was the agony in his rear. Now he noticed that the organ he liked to brag about was hanging forlornly in front of him. There was no way he was going to be able to give any specimen to anyone with that droopy, flabby thing, he thought, and he laughed. The laugh ended in a moan because it hurt him inside.
Sally held up one of the lab's small suction devices to the tip of his penis and turned on the compressor. "Don't worry, Brad," she said.
"I've turned the power down so low that it's barely sucking." And it was true. He didn't feel a thing except the pain inside him. But a minute later, he realized that it must have been working because he felt his penis growing. "Just like Mr. Big Stuff," said Sally brightly. "There's a way to stimulate every animal." Soon his long tool was rock hard. Sally turned off the machine and reached below him to swish her hands through a big puddle of lubricant that had come out of him. One of her hands began massaging his testicles while the other stroked him.
Despite the pain in his rear, he began responding, and breathing faster. When he started groaning louder, Sally yelled out, "He's coming. Quick, Jake, the stimulator, now! Whoa!" The "Whoa!" was because a second after Brad started spewing his semen, there was a huge thunderclap, or at least it sounded like that.
It was the sound of Mr. Big Stuff rising off the go-kart and smashing back down on top of it. As he did so, his penis came out of Brad a few inches and then shoved back into him and erupted.
Brad felt it and thought it was like a pressurized water hose had been pushed into him and turned up all the way. Maybe it was his imagination again, but the discomfort level rose to a breaking point before it finally stopped.
The five classmates didn't say anything at first. Brad looked at them, and they looked at him. He felt mortified and couldn't speak. Finally, Sally said something. "That was amazing," she said in a quiet voice.
"It was a lot more exciting than I ever thought it would be." Then Brad noticed that all five were breathing hard and red-faced. Oh no, he thought, they were getting off on the whole thing. Sally was the first one to shake herself back to reality. She was not sorry for Brad, but now she was finding it hard to remember how angry she was at him, because she had just had one of the biggest orgasms of her life, standing up and with no one, not even herself, touching her.
"OK, Brad," she finally said. "There's a couple more parts of this that belong to Experiment 3, the one about modifying human behavior. We're going to film this part, too." "Here's what's going to happen.
Mr. Big Stuff has given you his stuff, and he's now getting soft again. We're going to slowly pull his thing out of you. It's going to hurt, but you've still got a lot of lubricant in you, along with all of his stuff, so it won't be too bad, but we should get some more great body language, facial expressions and sounds.
"Then we're going to put him back in his pen and move you to the floor and put you on those cushions. We'll keep your ass in the air, but this time you'll be on your back. We're going to lift your legs up and pull them back until we can tie your feet together behind your head. The girls will pull them slowly to avoid any muscle strains, and we'll put pillows behind your back to support you.
Your head will be leaning down on the other side of this cushion, and we're going to pull your asshole back until it's right over your mouth and then push it down and tie it in place. Your ugly asshole will be close enough to kiss your ugly pie hole. Then we're going to use this rubber bulb syringe and pump your ass full of air.
"When your ass is full of gas, Mr. Big Stuff's come and the lubricant inside you is going to want to come out.
You're going to want to fart really bad. You'll probably hold back a while, but eventually, you're going to have to let go, and when you do, the stuff inside you is going to shoot into your face like shot from a shotgun. And once you start farting, it will be hard to stop, and more and more of it will gush out, like a flood. It's going to cover your face.
You will close your eyes and your mouth, but when it fills your nose, it will cut off your air, so you'll have to open your mouth to breathe, and then it will fill your mouth and you'll have to swallow it to keep from choking.
"We're going to be here through the whole disgusting process and get all of it on video. Then we're going to untie you and leave. If you haven't opened your eyes by this time, I suggest you do so then and go right to the animal stalls to hose yourself down.
We'll leave your pants there for you. Then I suggest you come back here and clean everything up and go home and think. "Even though you're a jerk, you're a farm boy, like us, so we know you're not going to turn us in, because farm boys don't ask other people to clean up their messes. "We'll see you in class tomorrow morning, and we'll pretend like nothing happened. I can't tell you we'll never talk about this, but we'll keep it to ourselves.
I have a feeling that no matter where we go from here, we'll have reunions to watch the video together. No one else will ever see it. "At least, that's what all of us prefer. It all depends on you. We could sell the video to a website and make you famous all over the world. Wherever you go, you would immediately meet people who have watched it. But this is not about money.
It's an experiment in modifying human behavior. If it's successful, you will be a different person tomorrow polite and considerate, especially to women. And you'll stay that way the rest of your life. We're not going to stalk you, but if we find out you've reverted to your old ways, you'll know we know as soon as one of your friends tells you that you are a new Internet star.
"It all depends on you. If the experiment is a success, we may even become friends down the road and have some good times together as aggies. If the experiment is a failure well, I don't even want to think about that. I'm sure it's going to be a success. "OK, guys, I think Mr. Big Stuff is soft again. Let's start pulling him out of Brad now. Remember, very slowly."