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Ilya exits his bathroom, idly running his towel over his hair, sweatpants sticking slightly to his still damp legs. He hums lightly as he ponder on what to eat for breakfast. He's sure Shane already has a ready-to-go satisfyingly green breakfast prepped and packaged in their refrigerator, just waiting for Shane to start his day, but they're only three days into the off-season and Ilya is on the brink of getting on his knees and begging for normal breakfast food.
It's not like Shane keeps Ilya from eating what he wants for breakfast during the season, but it's so much easier to choke down egg whites and oatmeal early in the morning while waiting for Shane to get back from his morning run. Shane used to not touch eggs with a twelve foot pole, his macrobiotic diet discouraging eating them, but he's been making the occasional exception this past year, his third year on the Centaurs not nearly as stressful as the first two.
Ilya briefly wonders if he might convince Shane to indulge in some buttermilk pancakes this morning; they could make them together, Shane measuring all the ingredients to the perfect decimal while Ilya throws them in a bowl and stares with adoration at the way his husband's brow furrows while he measures flour. They have most of the ingredients already, though they might be low on buttermilk.
Humming louder than before, Ilya passes his husband, giving his head a few pets as he walks past. Shane shifts at the attention, his pretty cow eyes following Ilya as he meanders around the room, little muffled pants just barely slipping past the ball gag in his mouth.
Ilya looks at him through the mirror as he goes through his sock drawer, eyes straying every few seconds to take in the beautiful picture his husband makes. He's bound to a specially designed bench, his arms and legs restrained in custom leather gear, made specifically to fit Shane's muscular arms and thick thighs. If he wasn't buckled down to the bench, he would be forced to walk on his elbows and knees, his hands buckled to his shoulders and his legs bent and bound, heels flush against his bare ass.
Ilya gets distracted, eyes running over Shane's body, catching on the pretty headband that adorns his head, cow ears and horns sitting atop his shiny black hair; the ears had several brown spots on them, the color almost matching Shane's gorgeous freckles exactly.
Ilya can't help it, completely forgetting what he was after, and he turns to Shane, cooing at the way his husband blinks up at him with wet eyes. Saliva slips past the ball gag, wet trails of spit slipping down and off of Shane's chin, a small puddle forming below him. The bench has chin support for when he needs to rest his neck, but Shane is eager to stretch his neck if it means he gets to look up at Ilya, something that pleases Ilya greatly.
"Good morning," Ilya finally greets Shane, smiling when Shane lets out a cute little moo in response. Shane lets out a grunt as he shifts, his udders swinging obscenely below him as he moves. The bench lets his teats hang low, both udders sandwiched in between an upper chest rest and a small stomach panel that has a hole in it, perfectly round to let Shane's slowly growing tummy rest without any pressure pushing back against him.
Ilya watches the swinging udders with hunger, mind going back to his pancake idea. They really did need to make some more buttermilk, and Shane's teats looked particularly puffy and blushed this morning; Ilya didn't see why he couldn't collect some milk now and have it ready for Shane to measure and use later.
Ilya slings his damp towel over his shoulder and heads to Shane's side of the bed. He uses his foot to fish out a stool and bucket, picking the bucket up while sliding the stool along the floor with a few easy pushes. It comes to rest next to Shane, and Ilya gives him another little pat on the head, careful not to knock his headband aside, before he crouches down next to his pretty cow.
"How are your fat udders feeling this morning?" Ilya asks, patting Shane's sides gently. His cow moos again, deliberately moving his chest so his fat teats flopped around. Ilya chuckles at the sight, shaking his head. "Oh, I see, my poor cow needs milked, yes?"
Shane nods his head, multiple sweet moos sending warm affection through Ilya. He stands long enough to adjust the stool before taking a seat, reaching over to move the bucket to sit right below the udder in front of him.
"You've been such a good cow," Ilya tells him, "so patient even as your fat udders hang under you, pulling you down when they fill with milk." Ilya ignores where he can see Shane's cockhead peaking out from between his thighs, his dick glistening with pre-cum as it hangs heavy and untouched. It kicks against Shane's tummy, fat and utterly useless.
"We will get you all sorted out, красивая корова," Ilya assures his cow, taking his damp towel and using it to wipe at Shane's teats, thoroughly cleaning them. Shane whines uncomfortably at the rough texture, but Ilya shushes him, pulling the towel away briefly and reaching up to pull harshly at Shane's hair. "There's no need to be like that; you know I have to clean your filthy udders, красивая корова, we do not want anything gross in the milk, now do we?"
Shane moos again in response, seemingly agreeing through the ball gag, and he stops squirming, staying still even as Ilya gets a bit rougher while cleaning his teats. Ilya eventually puts the towel down and double checks the bucket is situated correctly under Shane.
"Okay, красивая корова, time to give me my milk," Ilya says, reaching under Shane for the udder hanging closes to him. He starts massaging the fat thing, ignoring the little hitched breaths Shane lets out. He takes a moment to pinch the puffy teat in between his fingers, twisting it harshly, and Shane squeals at the sharp pleasure of it, more spit dripping from behind his ball gag, his headband knocked askew on his head.
Ilya cups the udder, his hand forming a familiar C shape as he starts pressing against the udder, pulling towards Shane's chest, and then compressing the udder tightly, smiling slightly at the sound of the milk hitting the bucket. Shane moans loudly, his pretty cow looking over his shoulder as best he can, watching Ilya's face as he's milked. Ilya notices the way his eyes roll back into his head at each pull of milk that is excreted from his full udders. Ilya can't help the pleased, smug look on his face, watching the milk shoot out of Shane.
"You are so full today, красивая корова," Ilya compliments him, switching his grip slightly so it will pinch at his cow's swollen teat. "You have so much milk to give me, yes?"
Shane's head nods, muffled moos spilling out of him, but Ilya isn't entirely sure how much his dumb little cow understands, Shane's eyes are glazed and his mouth is drooling as Ilya grips him tightly in his fist. Shane whines a little, but cuts himself off, clearly remembering Ilya shushing him earlier.
"I can not believe how lucky I am to have such a well-behaved milk cow," Ilya tells him, shaking his head as he pushes the bucket under his other udder. He stands from his stool and takes it to the other side of the bench, more comfortable switching sides rather than trying to reach over and give Shane's udder the proper attention it deserves; there has been plenty of trial and error in getting their routine as exact as it is.
Ilya repeats the process of milking his award winning cow, eyes straying to the way Shane's belly hangs below him. He wasn't too far along yet, but his tummy had bloated already, firm and round where he was carrying Ilya's calves. Ilya squeezes the udder in his hand tightly, his gaze going further down to stare at Shane's weeping cock. His красивая корова has the fattest, most useless cock Ilya has ever had the pleasure of seeing, the burning red dick hanging helplessly between Shane's gloriously thick thighs. Ilya moves his leg closer to that end of the bench, using his foot to brush against the pathetic thing just dangling there.
Shane moos loudly at the touch, twitching violently on his bench as Ilya rubs his cock lightly with his foot. Ilya continues to milk him as his foot pokes at the weeping thing, his humming starting up again. He reaches the last of the milk Shane can give him, lovingly pinching the tip of his teat as he pulls the bucket away again. He eyes Shane's face, making eye contact with those pretty brown cow eyes.
"You have been so good," Ilya says, contemplatively. "Would you like a reward?"
Shane starts mooing loudly, his head bobbing in excitement. Ilya and Shane both know what reward Shane wants, so Ilya moves in front of his cow and undoes his ball gag, unable to not stare in awe at how debauched Shane looks with saliva covering his chin and tears on his freckled cheeks.
"Open wide, please," Ilya tells him, pleased as punch when Shane sticks out his soft pink tongue and whines desperately, eyes locked onto Ilya's crotch. Ilya pushes his sweatpants down, his aching cock springing out. He fists his dick for a moment, watching Shane follow his hand as it moves over his dick. He steps forward, amused at the way Shane strains against his restraints, tongue stuck obscenely out as he tries to chase after the bead of pre-cum that was forming at the head of Ilya's cock.
Ilya slaps his hard cock against Shane's tongue a few times, chuckling at the desperate little bellows that leave Shane. He's been close to coming for ages now, utterly enraptured by his perfect breeding cow, so he puts his hand in Shane's hair, moving his little headband back in place, and then uses the other hand to guide his hard cock into Shane's eager mouth. Shane keeps his mouth relaxed, spit already gathering and pooling into his open mouth as Ilya's cock plunges in.
Ilya groans when he's enveloped in wet heat, his cock throbbing when Shane simply drools around him and doesn't try to suck. "Such a good mouth pussy," Ilya praises him. Shane wiggles in delight, big cow eyes looking up at Ilya with lust and adoration. "So wet and eager to take my seed," Ilya grunts, forcing the entire length of his cock down Shane's throat. He simply stays lodged there, basking in the feel of Shane spasming around his cock as he struggles to breathe.
Ilya's breath hitches as Shane starts to twitch, bound and unable to do anything as Ilya stays buried deep in his throat. He pulls back just a little after another few seconds, eyes burning as he watches Shane suck in a lungful of air around Ilya's massive cock.
"You take my cock so well," Ilya praises him, removing his hand from Shane's hair so he could pat his cheek with several sharp smacks. "You will take my cum even better," Ilya tells him before shoving his cock back inside, making Shane choke once more. Ilya thrusts brutally into Shane's throat, watching the way his face turns red and his eyes dazed as Ilya makes it known who owns him.
Ilya shifts his grip to Shane's throat, pulling his head up slightly and holding Shane firmly as he forces his cock as deep as it will go. He doesn't bother holding back the moan that comes from deep in his chest, his cock twitching and spurting into Shane's throat as he finally starts to come. Shane is gurgling around him, happy little breathless moos muffled around Ilya's cock as he guzzles down his reward, wriggling around as much as he can while bound. More tears stain his already wet face.
Ilya eventually pulls his soft cock out of Shane's mouth, gently releasing his cow's throat. Shane looks up at him, eyes sparkling. "You have been on your best behavior today," Ilya says, petting his cheeks in a much softer manner as he admires the flush of Shane's skin and how it makes the freckles on Shane's face pop. He releases Shane and ignores the confused little moo he lets out as Ilya walks behind him. Shane's puffy cow pussy is exposed to the air, a plug lodged firmly into it, his cow tail extending out and swishing with every move Shane makes. Ilya takes ahold of it, chuckling when Shane moans filthily at the sensation.
"I did not finishing milking you," Ilya says, tugging on the tail so the wide plug threatens to pop out of Shane's stretched hole. Ilya does this several times, charmed by how pathetic Shane sounds each time the plug moves inside him.
Ilya could probably do this all day, completely mesmerized at the sight of the large plug forcing Shane's hole open, stretched and red, but his eye catches the clock on the wall and he realizes they need to actually get ready for their day, Anya surely already waiting patiently by the front door to be let out.
Ilya wraps the tail around his hand, gripping it and pulling it roughly. Shane shakes beneath him, his bare back straining and sweaty. Ilya soaks it in, loving how gorgeous he looks. He raises his foot and lightly kicks Shane's cock and balls, harshly pulling the plug out at the same time.
"Cum!" Ilya barks harshly, his voice a command and not a suggestion.
Shane is such a good boy and he listens, unrestrained moos leaving his mouth as his girthy cock comes in stripes on the floor below him. His cow pussy flutters around nothing, gaping. Ilya would be tempted to shove his now half-hard cock into it, fuck his cum dry into Shane's already occupied womb, but they don't really have time for that.
Shane is whining as his cock continues to dribble out cum, his blissed out face making his gorgeous cow look fucked stupid. Ilya loves him so much.
"So good for me," Ilya praises him once more as he starts undoing the buckles keeping Shane still. He rubs gently at Shane's limbs, making sure there is no obvious bruising, and he takes a moment to check for any tearing his rough treatment could have caused when roughly pulling at the anal plug, but Shane stretches himself well before every scene, always careful. Ilya pets Shane's back in soothing circles, kneeling down to press a soft kiss in between his shoulder blades.
"солнышко," Ilya whispers, a soft smile on his face as Shane hums, his brown eyes peeking up at Ilya. "We must get you clean, yes?"
Shane hums in agreement, stretching his body slightly before he slowly starts to get off his bench. Ilya helps him, giving him little kisses as he gets his bearings, hand coming to rest on the bump of his stomach.
"Good?" Ilya asks, welcoming Shane into his arms as his pregnant husband pulls him close.
"Yes, thank you," Shane says, his voice pleased. His freckles look particularly pretty this morning, bolder now that Shane has spent some time in the sun yesterday.
Ilya gives his husband a soft kiss on the lips, both of them luxuriating in the peaceful moment, before Ilya starts guiding Shane to their shower. "Let's clean you up, pretty."
Ilya will make sure Shane is comfortably able to shower on his own before gathering their scene supplies and moving them back into their closet. Shane's breastmilk will need to be transferred into another container and the bucket washed clean before it can go back under the bed with the stool.
Ilya can practically taste the Shane milk pancakes already, well versed by now in the art of incorporating Shane's milk into his meals; it always gives him a little extra boost to know Shane's breastmilk is sitting in his stomach, keeping him full and satiated.