When I woke, I was still blindfolded, with my arms bound behind me. Both of them stiff and cramped from the long hours. I had been wakened by someone tugging at my leash. Finding my neck and ankles free, I managed to stand and mumbled something into the device still in my mouth.

“Elgun was right, this is a weird one,” mumbled a new voice, sounding like they were talking to themselves.

The senseless chatter picking up as I was led forward. It wasn't long before other bodies brushed against either side of me. All with bare skin ... just like my own. I'd ... half expected them to have fur, feathers, or maybe even scales.

Once the crowd had pressed tightly enough around me that escape was impossible, my leash and armbinders were removed. I had to cooperate just to avoid being trampled by the crowd around me.

At least, until we eventually stopped again. This time, I was surprised to feel fresh air and the warmth of the sun on my bare skin.

Finally, my blindfold was taken off.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the morning sun. But when I did, I found myself in a field surrounded by … other humans.

Hundreds of people surrounded me on every side. All femme from what I could see … and all of them cis. I looked around—beyond the wooden fencing I’d walked along the night before—and spotted a pen full of human men a ways off.

We’d just left an enormous brown barn—its doors already shutting behind us. Minotaurs emerged just before, all wearing matching overalls. They began walking between the humans, handing each something as they passed.

At first, I thought it to be food. But none of the humans seemed to be eating it. They simply clutched it to their chests and waited.

I tried to signal at the humans around me, to figure out what was going on. However, no matter how I tried, not a one made any sort of coherent motion back. They wouldn't even look me in the eyes. All of them just seemed ... focused ... on whatever was being passed out.

A minotaur eventually reached me and placed five objects into my palm. I looked down to see that these were just carved bits of a stick … like little wooden buttons that lacked holes.

What the hell was I supposed to do with this?

I tried to signal him with my hands, but the minotaur made no attempt to look at me. Judging by the humans grabbing at him for more of the buttons, I supposed I could understand why. He then shouted some indiscernible call, dispersing the humans into the rest of the field.

This was the point where I half-expected the rest of the people to come and meet me. If for no other reason than to stare at my horns and tail. However, the other humans ignored me entirely and shuffled into two parts of the field, where there were two troughs.

So I made my own way over.

As I went, I looked out at the edges of the field. Suddenly, the spiky bits of wood and metal on the ground just before the fence made much more sense. They weren’t made for containing anything with hooves. They were meant for keeping humans locked up.

When I reached the trough, I noted that a few particularly muscular-looking humans were surrounding it threateningly—keeping all others away. Once they had succeeded in backing all the smaller ones off, they began sticking in their arms inside. Retrieving handfuls of sludge like oats and water and berries and slurping them through their mouth restraints.

Only once these had had their fill did they turn around to address the others waiting. Instead of making way, however, they continued to guard the troughs.

One by one, the smaller humans lined up and waited their turn to drop all five of their wooden buttons at the feet of the guards. Those who did this were able to take a single scoop of food with their hands.

Trying to swallow down my revulsion, I lined up with them. A little nauseous from the display, I took from one of the far edges of the trough, when it was my turn. I then retreated back into the open field and began to eat the mostly flavorless mush on my own.

Doing so might’ve been difficult with my gag, but the texture was so paste-like that I hardly needed to even soften it with my tongue. I also realized that I hadn’t taken much compared to the others … but eating it ... I began to relax ... my thoughts becoming somewhat ... lackadaisical.

Nobody ventured near me as I ate. They all continued to hover in the vicinity of the troughs, even after they could no longer pay for more.

I noted with unusual passivity that the smaller ones looked … almost afraid. Yet they stayed close to the group. Oddly ... it was a kind of fear I recognized. A sort of ... compulsive urge to be near the scariest person around. To satiate the abuse early, before it got out of hand.

Yet ... I wasn't doing that at all right now.

Huh, good for me.

As the hours passed, the bigger humans continued to passively graze at the food. Occasionally, they would reach for the pile of buttons and hand one to a smaller human for some service. Cleaning them, massaging them, retrieving water in cupped hands from a central water trough, and other such things.

This went on for hours.

At some point, I happened to see one of the smaller humans try to snatch a peg while nobody was looking.

None of the bigger ones saw, but another smaller woman started screeching and pointing at her. I thought, at this point, that one of the bigger trough-guards would react. Maybe take more buttons as a sort of fine. However, the closest guard just kind of pointed at the thief and grunted.

Immediately, the other smaller ones began to give chase, clawing, biting ineffectively, and trying to grab onto her hair. Finally, the small woman tripped and fell. Even then, the attacks did not stop.

Even through the haze, I panicked, looking around for some minotaur to stop the attack. When they made no notion that they'd even noticed, I rushed in. Struggling to generate my magic before they killed her.

Still ... just charging in seemed to be enough.

As soon as I approached, the other women retreated back to the safety of the guarded trough.

At this, the biggest of the guards finally bothered to stand. She bared her teeth and approached.

To my surprise, the smaller humans began to smile and glare at me, as if in anticipation for whatever carnage was to follow.

Still sluggish from constant grazing on the berries, the guard clawed slowly at me.

With a surprising lack of effort, I side-stepped the attack and released a torrent of pent up sexual energy from a single point in my forehead. This magic sent my attacker off her feet and rolling backwards along the ground.

At this, all the others began screeching and hissing aggressively–while blocking of the trough from me. As if the conclusion of my victory meant that I would suddenly try to take their food from them.

I shook my head and reached down to help up the injured woman to her feet. With a screech of her own, her eyes filled with a mix of rage and fear, the woman used her fingernails to take small chunks out of my arm.

I gasped and pulled back away from her. I nursed my bleeding arm while the woman retreated to the others, who beat her a few more times for good measure.

No wonder the minotaurs had treated me as they had!

I sighed in discomfort and set about cleaning my wound as best as I could. I went to an unguarded drinking trough, cupped some water in my hand from it, and cast a spell Qasven had taught me to purify it.

Finally, I began rubbing the wound to get it as clean as I could. When nobody was looking, I then squeezed a bit of my breastmilk out. The magic was immediate, closing my wound to leave just a pink mark.

Having learned my lesson, I kept my distance from the ... guggles ... after that. Not only watching them with some morbid fascination.

At some point, the guggles began growling at one another. Those surrounding one feeding trough against the other. It seemed that the two feeding troughs were not simply a matter of efficiency. Rather, the guggles had formed two packs.

Maybe they really were humans.

Near sundown, the weaker guggles lined up once again at the feeding troughs. Those who had earned enough buttons serving the stronger guggles were able to get one or even two more additional handfuls of food.

While I certainly did not have any buttons to pay for dinner, I wasn’t too bothered. The idea of eating more of that gruel turned my stomach. Still … I would have to do so again eventually. And I was already enemy number one to at least one of the groups.

Was I going to have to start fighting them or using my powers to clear a spot for breakfast every morning? No … what I needed to focus on was escape. And now ... I wasn't sure I wanted to take any of the guggles with me.

A few hours later, a bell rang.

Immediately, all the guggles began to head toward the enormous barn doors we’d left from. Not wanting to be attacked covertly in the crowd, I kept my distance so that I would be last to enter. I also kind of hoped to somehow communicate to the minotaurs that this was all a giant misunderstanding.

As I looked around for someone to talk to, I noticed a few minotaurs near each of the troughs. With looks of disgust evident on their faces, they collected a large number of the wooden buttons that had been left underneath.

Looking back at the guggles, none had kept the wooden pegs now that the day was over. In fact, the minotaurs there checked their hands as they entered. I couldn't imagine the carnage if the guggles had been allowed to hoard them.

So the minotaurs were just redistributing a small portion of the same wooden buttons to the guggles every day. It made sense in a twisted way. Playing their little game kept all the guggles placid. Or ... at least ... not focused on trying to escape.

“The new one’s not comin' in,” I heard someone mutter.

I turned around, realizing they were talking about me. I began to wave and motion and point at my mouth.

“Another guggle imitating us, how cute,” the minotaur said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She walked over and clipped a leash to my collar. Not wishing to be bound again, I did not fight her this time.

Instead, I sighed discontentedly, wondering if I was going to have to use my magic to escape them. It was ... definitely something I could do. Wait until tomorrow, until the minotaurs were occupied. Maybe even cause a distraction, which wouldn't be difficult. Then use my magic to blast a gate and the shards of metal in front of it.

Of course ... that would likely lead to a fight. Even if I managed to speak, the minotaurs around here seemed to have a very poor view of sorcerers already. And I didn't exactly want to murder a bunch of people on my way out. Even if Hask Farms was the giant evil farm, the people working here probably didn't have a lot of options.

“You know,” said a minotaur, bringing my attention back to the present. “I think that Xania was probably right about this one. She’s getting rejected by the herd. And ... she looks … a bit off. Even if you don't count the horns ... tail ... and all the extra bits.”

I covered my girlstick and shot him a glare.

“See?,” the minotaur said, pointing at me. “It’s almost like she knows what we’re saying!”

“Not fighting the lead either,” the minotaur guiding me said as she wiggled the leash. “Reckon she was a pet?”

“Had to be,” the other minotaur said as she again led me back through the wash tunnels. “You know how those east-siders are. Trying to make just about anything into something they can snuggle.”

“But a guggle?” the minotaur woman asked, lifting a bovine nostril in disgust. She shook her head. “Besides, this one would have had to travel for days … even weeks to get all the way out here. It would’ve been filthy. Probably even died, or at least been near starving.”

I was now in the main part of the barn, which I could finally see now that I wasn’t blindfolded. The massive structure was split into two aisles–divided by little barred off pens on either side. Each pen had two of the beds with breast-holes and machinery.

All the gates and bars had a thin, spiky texture designed—much like the barriers outside—to be rough on bare skin but seemingly ineffective on anything with fur.

The minotaur man shrugged, seemingly having thought of the matter for a moment. “Maybe they realized they couldn’t take care of it. Brought out to the country and released it. Wouldn’t be the first time. Remember when ragzins became the pet craze?”

The duo led me into one of the pens. There, the woman looped my leash through the face in bed shaped like a massage-table. With the leverage, she was able to pull my face through the head-loop. Then, I was again left shackled by my neck, wrists, and ankles.

The woman then lift the glass tubes that began sucking gently at my breasts. Only then was I finally left alone for a few minutes. To at least try and figure out how I was going to deal with this situation.

At least, I thought so before one of the guggles was brought into my pen and latched into the neighboring bed. All the while, trying to thrash and bite at the minotaurs. I thought it would be impossible to get them to sleep like this.

However, a minotaur began entering each room and attaching some additional glass tube to the face of each guggle. As soon as they did so, the guggles stopped moving, seeming entirely content.

This minotaur soon reached me and did the same.

It took a few moments, but I eventually felt some familiar mush sitting at the edge of the tube—touching my tongue. This far pastier mush slowly made its way past my lips, clearly consisting of the same oats and berries from the trough.

Whether I wanted it or not, the paste slowly dripped into my throat. It seemed I wasn’t going to starve in this place, even if I couldn't get food from the trough.

It wasn't long before the same odd feeling of calm as before came upon me. This time, the effect was far stronger than before. The world began to spin ... softly … like a lazy river floating along.

Shit … I was high.

For an amount of time I could not account for, I could only lose my thoughts and enjoy the flow. Swallowing more of the mush that the device pressure-pumped past my lips.

At some point, I heard some angry commotion coming from the opposite end of the barn. But I didn't bother to look around to check it out.

“I will not come back later, you have no legal right to keep her!” shouted someone familiar.

Was it … Xania?

Xania was nice.

“What do you mean, you don’t know where she is! No, I am getting her back before your lousy operation breaks her as much as the rest of your poor animals.”

Hearing her quite near me, I began to wiggle.

It would be nice to say hello, and also to know what she even looked like. After all, she had blindfolded me the time before. Naughty Xania. Naughty and nice Xania. I wondered if she would get kinky toys in her stocking for Christmas.

Then, the gate to my pen opened.