How to Catch a Bull

Shouta is a bull at UA, a massive cow farm, and he’s not very happy about it. The most he has to look forward to are his daily naps and the occasional sugar cube — until one breeding day, when he meets the heifer of his dreams.

CW: Shinzawa, dubcon, Shin w/ pussy/cunt, cow kink, lactation kink, breeding kink, mpreg, hybrid AU, creampie, drug mention, cucking (a lil pinch), public (barnyard?) sex

Inspired by artwork by @/baipadesu, which I'll link later in the thread

Mature Content, QRTS welcome~

(A/N: I actually researched cattle farming terminology for this dear god: cow = cattle w pussy; heifer = cow who hasn’t born calves yet - I use both for Shin bc I think of ‘cow’ as a more general term while ‘heifer’ applies specifically to him)

Shouta wakes up mad. Ornery. Crabby. Pissed off. A pair of handlers burst into his stall, ripping him off his comfy pile of hay and out of his nap. Shouta considers taking a snap at one, but the metal cattle prod gripped in their gloved hand makes him think better of it.

The wounds from his last run in with that thing are still healing: welts on his upper thighs that sting whenever he moves around too much.

He knows what day it is. The handlers don’t even need to tell him.

They do anyway, of course.

“It’s breeding day~” one of them practically sings. “We’re taking you over to the breeding hall to meet your first mate. Aren’t you excited~?”

The tone heavily implies that they don’t think Shouta can understand single a word. To them, he’s just a dumb bull. Just a mindless, horny fuck machine.

He follows the pair dutifully, not putting up much of a fight after that initial tantrum. Not much point. The sooner they get this over with, the sooner he can get back to his stall. Back to his hay and his nap. All his favorite things.

They guide him by the rope around his neck into a partitioned section of the ‘breeding hall.’ It’s just a barn, really. Made of rickety wooden siding and a drafty roof. But the owner of UA likes to give things fancy names.

Make this place out to be more respectable than what it really is: just another cow farm. A milk and breeding factory with questionable ethics and a very poor understanding of its hybrids’ intelligence.

Just before they lead Shouta to his assigned stall, they shove a handful of pills into his mouth, closing his lips around them to make sure they go down. Stimulants, to help him get it up even if he’s not in the mood.

And he’s definitely not in the mood. He just wants to sleep, maybe munch some grass.

“Your assigned mate today is a tricky little thing,” the sing-songy handler tells him, working his mouth to try and get him to swallow the pills—which Shouta refuses. For now, at least. Just one more act of defiance.

“We’ve been trying to get it knocked up for over a year now with no luck. Maybe you’ll have a better shot.”

The handler turns and snickers at their companion, obviously pleased with themselves over the lame joke.

Shouta sighs, still keeping the slowly dissolving pills lodged under his tongue. The sooner this day ends, the better.

“Alright, ready to meet your mate?” one handler asks. Shouta is beyond trying to discern which one. They’re all the same to him.

Not waiting for an answer (obviously), the handlers throw open the door to the stall, revealing Shouta’s first mate of the day.

The bull’s eyes go wide. His jaw drops, half-dissolved pills almost spilling out. He can feel drool dribble down his chin.

He’s beautiful.

Shouta has never seen a heifer quite like him—and as an experienced mating bull, he’s seen plenty. All shapes, all sizes, and so many pretty ones—but none quite as lovely as the creature bolted to the floor before him now.

The heifer has an unusual shade of violet fur, tufting over his forehead and ears like a mane and trailing down from his navel like an invitation.

Like the rest of the cattle on this farm, he’s completely naked, except for a pair of gratuitous black-and-white speckled stockings, stretching over his legs to the middle of his thighs.

All heifers are required to wear them. Shouta has no idea why, but at this moment, he’s grateful. The stockings help showcase the graceful, tantalizing shape of the young heifer’s legs, slipping over their beautiful curves-

-and guiding the eye straight to what mesmerizes Shouta most, right between the young cow’s thighs: his slick pink cunt, stretched wide and waiting for his bull.

Shouta spits out the remains of the pills, landing with a faint *plop* in the hay beneath his feet. He won’t be needing those anymore. His cock is already starting to swell.

“Okay, we’ll leave you two alone then!” the sing-song handler says, slamming the door behind the bull.

Shouta rolls his eyes. It amazes him sometimes how blindly their handlers trust in the catte’s supposed ‘instincts’ — so blindly that they expect him to fall all over this poor heifer without any more prompting,

just give in to lust and ravage the pathetic young thing without a second thought.

In the past, Shouta probably *would* have given it a second thought—but not today. Today the handlers got it right.

He’s going to ruin this little heifer.

The young creature finally looks up at Shouta from his prone position shackled to the floor. He blinks up at the bull with wide, frightened doe eyes. His lashes are long and lovely, just like the rest of him, but Shouta can sense a trace of fear in his irises as well.

The bull crouches down, eye level. He notices the heifer is shivering slightly. The handlers probably have him hopped up on so many drugs he’s barely coherent. They often do that with heifers, especially the difficult ones. It keeps them from putting up too much of a fight.

And from the way the handlers described him, this one is a fighter.

Shouta can feel his cock swelling painfully large, hanging loose and angry between his crouched legs. One way or another, he’s going to have to take care of that soon.

Reaching forward carefully, he ghosts a hand over the heifer’s quivering thigh. Shouta locks eyes with him, trying to communicate through his gaze that he’s going to have to do this, there’s no way around it—but that he’ll do his best not to hurt the young heifer too bad.

He doesn’t keep that promise.

Shouta lunges forward and takes the heifer with everything he has, slamming his thick cock into that waiting, gaping pussy with all the force and fire he can muster.

He’s never felt more awake—more *alive*—and the way the young cow screams at the force and suddenness of it only adds to the pleasure mounting in Shouta’s gut.

He fucks into the heifer with a brutal vengeance, grabbing him by his graceful thighs and pinning him down, slamming into him over and over. Eventually the poor creature’s screams fade to pitiful lows, trembling out a moan with every thrust.

Shouta hopes the drugs they’ve got the sad little thing hopped up on still allow him to feel *something*: he wouldn’t want all this to be for nothing.

Guess he’ll just have to fuck him harder and hope.

The young, violet-furred heifer reaches up and wraps his arms around the bull, clawing at Shouta’s back with enough force to draw blood. So this is why they’ve got him on those tranquilizers.

The pain only excites the bull more, and he picks up the pace, fucking the little heifer as violently as his beastly body can manage.

It’s not long before the shuddering creature beneath him comes, gasping and lowing as the grip on Shouta’s back loosens, fingers falling away to curl uselessly in the hay beneath him.

Shouta grits his teeth as the heifer’s cunt constricts around his dick, practically milking it as the young cow rides out his orgasm.

The sensation is enough to bring the bull to his own climax, spilling into the heifer in thick ropes, spurting into that precious, perfect belly with so much force Shouta swears he reaches the very depths of the young cow’s womb.

They continue like that for almost an hour.

Shouta fucks the heifer raw. He can’t remember the last time he’d been able to go this many rounds without much of a refractory period in between.

One look at those fucked-out doe eyes and the bull is fully hard again, ready to pound into that ripe, sweet pussy until the young cow is wailing from pleasure—full on *sobbing* at times.

The bull makes sure his lovely little mate comes just as many times as he does—possibly more, because he’s feeling gracious.

By the end of it, Shouta can’t tell if it’s the tranquilizers still putting stars in the young cow’s eyes or the sheer, ecstatic exhaustion of being utterly -demolished- that many times over.

The bull is very pleased with himself.

It’s also been a while since he can remember making this much of a mess. He pumped so much cum into the heifer’s smooth little belly that it’s got a healthy bulge to it now, curved and swollen with the overwhelming number of rounds Shouta managed to fuck into him.

Some of it is even spilling from the cow’s split-open cunt, pooling in a nice little puddle in the hay beneath the heifer’s tender-pink thighs.

The cute horny thing is panting, tongue lolling out. Drool trails from the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin. His breaths are so hot and labored they’re practically steaming around his adorable little face.

(a/n *cue lovely inspiration art*) https://twitter.com/baipadesu/status/1349400821142671362?s=20

Shouta’s panting too, but he’s not nearly as fatigued. He could easily go a few more rounds—his dick’s already hard again—but he knows the handlers will be back to check on them soon.

Glancing around cautiously—to make sure no one is looking over the sides of the stalls—Shouta leans down and runs a hand over the lovely bulge in the heifer’s stomach.

Stooping even lower, he plants a quick kiss on the young cow’s cheeks: a tiny little signature, a mark of gratitude, and perhaps of something more.

He was brought here to mindlessly breed this poor creature, but Shouta may have accidentally fallen in love.

“Time’s up!” that damned sing-song voice chimes, unlocking the door of the stall and waltzing in.

Seeing the heifer, their eyes go wide. “Oh… looks like you really did a number on it, eh?”

“If that doesn’t knock it up, nothing will,” the other handler remarks dryly. “Anyway, we should bring in the next one.”

“Okay okay,” the sing-song handler huffs. “Just a second.”

They crouch down and whip out a black permanent marker, quickly scrawling a word onto the heifer’s left thigh.

Shouta tilts his head curiously. ‘Used,’ he reads.

“Time for your next appointment~!” the handler says, fixing a rope to the collar around Shouta’s neck and leading him out of the stall.

Shouta manages one last glimpse over his shoulder as he’s led away, watching as the other handler stoops down over the heifer and presses a gloved hand against his swollen belly, feeling and measuring the size of the bulge-

-and shoving a plug up his cunt to keep all the excess cum from leaking out. “You need all the help you can get,” the handler says, patting the heifer’s stomach.

The bull feels a sick coil of pleasure slither through his gut at the sight of someone touching and examining his mate like that.

His mate.

Because in Shouta’s mind, that heifer is his now. He may not know his name or when he’ll ever see him again, but that violet-furred heifer now belongs to him.

It’s a large farm. It’s highly unlikely that Shouta will ever get paired with that little purple heifer again. He’s resigned to this.

He tries to put those perfect thighs and juicy cunt out of his mind, focus on his naps, his hay, his stall: all the things in his tiny, dreary corner of existence.

No other cow compares. Every breeding day, he’s forced to resort to his stimulants—or he’d remain flaccid and bored the whole time (and face the cattle prod for it right after.)

Sometimes he even manages to sneak a few extra pills back to his stall with him, to use when he gets especially desperate.

Each time he touches himself, his mind is filled with the memory of that day, all that precious time spent with that perfect, doe-eyed little cow. It’s the closest he can get to actually seeing him.

One day, months later, the unthinkable happens.

The handlers are leading Shouta across the open farmyard, tugging him by the rope around his neck, when he catches a whiff. It’s thin, barely there, but it’s still enough to jog his memory, especially when he’s been thinking of nothing else.

Shouta sniffs, nostrils flaring, eyes scanning the yard—until he spots him.

Standing a good distance away, huddled together with a handful of other cows, is the violet-furred heifer, looking every bit as gorgeous as Shouta remembers—and very heavily pregnant.

The bull’s vision goes dark. Everything falls away except the heifer on the far end of the yard. Shouta strains against the handlers’ hold on him, finally yanking free of their grip and charging like a warship towards that perfect little cow,

catching him in his arms when they meet and tumbling to the dusty ground.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Shouta lows into the heifer’s downy, droopy ears, caressing his swollen belly. This close, there’s no mistaking it: these are his calves. “How many did I put in you?”

“Three,” the cow says weakly, cradled in Shouta’s arms. “Triplets…”

His voice is just as breathy and otherworldly as the rest of him, and Shouta loves him all the more for it. He nuzzles into the cow’s neck and continues caressing his stomach.

“Must’ve done my job too well then,” the bull smirks.

The heifer only groans, unintelligible.

“What was that, baby boy?” Shouta asks, leaning closer as he cradles him. The little thing’s tits are already starting to leak milk.

“I… cock. Want… your c-cock…”

“You want my cock?” Shouta prompts, already getting hard.

“Y-yes…” the heifer sighs. “Missed you.”

“Right here, now?” Shouta asks, glancing around. The other cows have long since scattered, but the handlers are closing in fast.

“Yes!” the heifer moans.

He looks so needy and desperate, swollen with the bull’s calves, tits spilling milk over his chest and stomach. Shouta can’t resist.

Shoving down the girdle worn by pregnant heifers, Shouta quickly forces his way into the cow, sighing as he sinks into his tight little pussy, all the while staying mindful of the cow’s heavy belly.

He positions the heifer on his knees and fucks into him from behind, setting a pace that leaves them both breathless.

“I-I never… asked… your name,” Shouta grits.

The cow pants, barely holding it together.

Even through his bliss, Shouta is increasingly aware of the sheer number of eyes on them as the handlers close in, and a burning knot of pride twists through his insides. Might as well give this damn farm a good show.

“H-Hitoshi,” the cow finally gasps. “My name is… Hitoshi."

“How cute,” Shouta growls, leaning in close by those downy ears. “A cute name for a cute little cow, mother of my calves. You take my bull cock so well, Hitoshi.”

The heifer moans, clearly burning with pride and pleasure at the sound of his name on the bull’s lips.

“And my name is Shouta,” the bull snarls, hot and low. He reaches a hand around to cup the cow’s pregnant belly. “And once they see how perfect and lovely our calves are, they’ll never keep us separate again.”

Hitoshi cries out, his pussy clenching hard and fast around Shouta’s dick.

The bull makes sure to hold him steady, keeping the cow’s hips and legs planted as he keens through his orgasm.

Shouta follows swiftly behind, spilling into his already-pregnant mate in thick ropes, humming at the pleasure of the cow falling apart in his arms.

“Never again,” Shouta sighs. “They’ll never separate us again.”

END

hope you enjoyed that little journey~ Once again, here is the lovely wonderful art that inspired it: https://twitter.com/baipadesu/status/1349400821142671362?s=20