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This story is a fictitious product of my imagination and should not be read if the reader has a hatred of gay/bi people, gay sex, etc., or sex-oriented writing in general. Any semblance to real life within this story is purely coincidental. This story uses components of abstract sexual fantasies and may not be for you. A few involving mpreg, muscle growth, lactation, vore, and acts of homosexual intercourse. If you are not 18 years of age, I recommend you click off your browser because it is likely this content is illegal for your reading.
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Author's note: With just one clue, I think this mystery might start to come together for some of you.
CH 22.
It was an early Sunday morning. Uncle T and Marc stood outside the tall metal fence that surrounded Golden Gate Prison. An unusual cold and brisk summer morning was their company as they waited. Marc zipped up his hoodie. The same old dreary colors of the building stared down on the two black men. A crushing hopelessness emanated from the building a burrowed into Marc's soul. The teenager shivered. He had worse chills than the first time.
Marc had pleaded and begged Uncle T to bring him here. His uncle was surprised but didn't mind as long as Princeton allowed it. With a call the two came that weekend. Though Marc was aware of the time, he couldn't spend all day here. He had another engagement later.
Once again, he stepped inside to the visitor center with Uncle T. Not as many people waiting in the area. The same ugly muted blue and brown furniture. Uncle T and Marc waited until there turn to be escorted to the side room. Marc sat down at the telephone as the guards brought Princeton. Marc's stomach curled a bit. Princeton looked paler and less present than before. He still had his handsome features and bulky body, but his personality was drained.
"Hey," He spoke into his phone, shocking Marc. It had only been a month since they last saw each other. How had Princeton changed so drastically.
"Are you okay?"
Princeton shook his head, "I got some bad news concerning my case... but enough about me you wanted to talk to me some more right?" The bullman said with enthusiasm. But Marc tell he was putting in the effort.
"I really only have two, but one wasn't something I could ask over the phone." Marc fiddled with his fingers working up the courage. "The first thing I want to ask is about your parents. Do you know where they are?"
Princeton scratched the side of his face, "I don't know specifically where they are. We aren't close but one is in California the other is in Texas. They're not together and they didn't want kids that's how I ended up in Randall's care."
"And you know for a fact they're okay? You've spoken to them?"
"One of my dads called me last week, and another comes to visit often." Princeton's eyes started to water, "To be honest I didn't expect them to care like I said we weren't close at all before this."
Marc nodded, "And about your parents are they Cowmen, or bullmen?"
"They're both Bullmen."
"Both of them?"
Princeton let out a laugh thumping his huge chest, "Surprised? I'm a genuine Bullman."
"I see..."
"Can I ask, why did you want to know that?"
Marc huffed. "The Bullmen I'm in charge of both have parents that left their farms without their kids. I thought it was unusual. Though after talking with you it may just be a Cowmen thing. I know some Cowmen have a weird relationship to Bullmen."
"Wow, both of your Bullmen were born from Cowmen?"
Marc nodded, "Well one was, Trevor. My other friend. Ken, we don't know too much about his parents. I guess it's possible one of them could have been a bullman."
"That's Amazing!" Princeton smiled. "Things like that don't happen every day."
"What?" Marc looked at Princeton curiously.
"What do you mean, what?"
Marc shook his hand, "No I wasn't questioning you. It's just I remember something you said the last time."
"Which is?" Princeton leaned forward.
"Um before I tell you. Do you know how rare is it for Bullmen to be born? The actual numbers, I mean."
"I'm no expert. Your Uncle probably knows more than I do."
Marc looked behind to his uncle. Uncle T had his nose buried in his phone. He spotted Marc and waved. Marc smiled and waved back, "Yeah but if I ask him, he's going to want to know why..."
Princeton laughed, "Oh this is some teenage rebellion."
A smile formed on Marc's lips. He could see color flowing back into Princeton, " Something like that."
"I think two regular high tier Cowmen mating the chance of producing a Bullmen child is between 25% and 50%."
Marc's eyes widen, "That's a wide margin"
"Well, it come down to genetics. Some high tier Cowmen are the cream of the crop. Of course, if depends on who the mate is also. If one of the parents is a bullman it's more like 75% to 85%."
"A big increase." Marc stated.
Princeton laughed, "That's that Bullmen sperm and body for you. I think it's impossible for them to have a child that not high tier at least. Anyway, the last and most obvious coupling is any Bullmen that sleeps with another Bullmen the child is always a Bullmen."
"Huh." Marc said digesting the information.
"So, you going to tell me what you're thinking?" Princeton asked.
"Last time I was here you said you overheard the phrase Bullmen aren't randomly born now, their birth can be ensured.' Now you just said, things like that don't happen every day.' Awhile back, Uncle T said. `If Princeton winding up on a farm was a rarity, how did our farm end up with two?' I'm sitting here thinking if such a coincidence is even possible."
Princeton shrugged, "Reality can be unrealistic at times."
"There's something else I didn't tell you. Ken and Trevor both produce milk like Cowmen."
Princeton smiled, "You're... you're joking," but it faded when he saw that Marc was indeed not joking. "Okay to have two Bullmen strange, but even among us lactating is rare. My parents don't even do that, except when I was born. I get coincidence, but when they pile up..."
Marc agreed if it was one coincidence it'd be fine, but when it's one after the other. He bit on the nail of his thumb. When one mystery starts to be unearthed another comes with a slap to the face.
"I don't know what to make of all that." Marc muttered. He couldn't think of it right now. It'd have to go on the back burner. He was here for a reason. Retrieving his phone from his pocket he pulled out the video of Weston's wife. He pressed the phone onto the glass portion. "Does this lady look like the one that was stealing milk on your farm?"
Princeton examine the photo and shook his head.
"Okay what about if she was dressed different? Hair put in a different way."
"Dude, it's not her. The lady I saw was much older."
Marc scrolled through his phone a presented the photos he had took at Milkem. "Does anyone in these photos look familiar?"
"Nope. Sorry"
Marc sighed, putting his phone away. He patted his pocket feeling the small key he briefly flirted with the idea of presenting it but knew there was no way Princeton had an answer. Instead Marc talked to Princeton a little more before saying goodbye. On the ride home he barely talked to uncle T. only grunts and short answers of yes or no. He thought that If Weston was stealing milk his wife was in on it too. They probably had a side business thing going on, but that was disproven.
Uncle T pulled into his garage and Marc got out.
"Where's the fire?" Uncle T shouted at his nephew. Marc spun around.
"I was going to wait by the entrance I asked Heather to hang out with me today."
"You sure have a busy schedule" Uncle T laughed, patting his nephew on the back and walking away.
Marc couldn't relax. He paced back and forth waiting for Heather to appear. He had asked her to take him to Milkem. This was another tour date, which he remember due to Dru and Sheila. They should also be there. Or maybe they went earlier? Marc swore under is breath. He hadn't asked what time slot they were going.
Heather pulled up honking obnoxiously. In the passenger's seat was none other than Brett he was wearing a beach themed blue tank-top with loose shorts and sunglasses.
"Hey, how's it going handsome?" Brett asked stepping out showing off his slick black tennis shoes.
"Huh, I half expected you to be in flip-flops. You look like you're ready for the beach." Marc shared.
"No way, I like wearing tennis shoes. In case I get the chance to go running." Brett said climbing in the back of the car, While Marc got in the front.
"Well we're going to a tour. I don't know if you're going to get much running done,"
"That's what I told him. Heather said, adjusting her review mirror "But as soon as he heard you were coming, he inserted himself in."
Brett hung his arms over Marc's seat, "Please let me come."
Marc had been distracted staring at the muscles Brett had let loose. "What? Oh yeah sure!" Being a horny teenager was beginning to be detrimental to Marc's thought process.
"He totally meant that in a perverted way." Heather said before pulling off.
The trio drove on before Heather decided to ask. "What's the point of this trek today? You wanted to get some more bullman milk without your uncle knowing." She winked.
"No," Marc's face felt hot he hadn't considered it, but if it was a possibility...
"I actually wanted to find out more about Trevor's parents. Apparently one of those photos I took at Milkem was of his dad. One of them anyway."
"Trevor's dad works for Milkem?" Heather stated in disbelief. "and I used to think he was hot."
"I'm not really sure what they do, but they were at a company party." Marc shared.
Brett stuck his head between the driver and passenger's seats. " I don't have all the important details, but shouldn't Trevor be here for this?"
Marc rubbed his head, "About that, Trevor and I came here, and it didn't go so well. I didn't want him to lose it with Mr. Karter this time. Though Trevor showed a lot of restraint while Mr. Karter talked in circles."
Heather lifted and eyebrow, "And you think he's going to talk to you because..."
"I don't." Marc answered. "In fact, even if he did. Can I even trust him?" Marc placed his hand on his chin.
Heather and Brett exchanged looks. Heather spoke first, "You going to fill us in Marc?"
They listened as Marc explained Weston's wife, or at least someone claiming to be, looked similar to a Milkem employee he ran into at the last tour. That it was possible those two were stealing from farms, and maybe Milkem and the Watkins farm were their current targets. This trip to Milkem was like going into the belly of the beast. Though he had no other options Marc wanted to find another clue to Trevor's parents.
"What exactly are you going to do?" Heather asked.
"Get back into that room of course!" Marc stated. "There's probably other pictures too."
"That's it?" Heather stated, "That's your master plan?"
Marc threw up his hands " I know the best stuff could be in Mr. Karter office, but I can't exactly break in there, it's probably heavily watched. I'm only 17 Heather! What do you want from me?! A full 8 step plan to steal the statue of liberty?"
"Okay, okay I'm backing off," Heather raised a hand off the steering wheel.
Brett decided it was his time to talk again, "So how would a new picture help you?"
"It would confirm Mr. Karter was lying, or at least knows about Trevor's parents. From there I was thinking my uncle might be able to wring the information out of him."
"Clench your butt cheeks then boys because, we're here." Heather pulled her station wagon into the parking lot. The tour was just like the first one a crowd standing around waiting for those first doors to open. Marc looked around for Dru and Sheila. Didn't spot them anywhere. He pulled on his hoodie it had gotten warmer since he left the prison. He considered taking it off, but there was air conditioning inside.
They were all welcomed inside. Marc took notice that he hadn't spotted any guards today. Though perhaps it was for appearances. They were probably stationed elsewhere out of site from the reporters and the cameras.
A few girls in the crowd where ogling Brett who remained, blissfully unaware, as Heather pulled him along. Marc caught Heather whispering something into Brett's ear. Mr. Karter stepped down from the steps in an all-white suit again. He descended into the crowd
"If my non-members of the press don't mind, I would love to let you all explore the main building, while I give my dry spiel." People in the crowd laughed. "But I won't let you go empty handed."
"He just recycled the same lines." Heather pointed out.
Cowmen male and female burst from the side doors carrying trays of milk. Marc was uninterested, trying to steel up his nerves for later while avoid Mr. Karter's eyesight.
Brett on the other hand was looking many of the male Cowmen up and down. It seems their gratuitous outfits were doing a number on the poor horseman. Marc pulled Brett aside, "Hey focus!" He snapped his fingers and the horseman pulled himself together.
Heather was staring daggers into Mr. Karter's back. Marc shivered, if looks could kill Mr. Karter would be on death row.
Marc placed a hand on her shoulder, "You okay?"
"Yes, no. I don't like having Brett here. I didn't think about till now, but Mr. Karter doesn't like Horsemen."
"I kinda get what you mean. When he looks at Ken and Trevor it gives me the heebie jebbies, like their prized cows up for slaughter and he's the butcher/"
"Woah, that was dark Marc, but that's not what I meant." Heather crossed her arms. "When he came to our farm, he looked at Horsemen like they were loogies on the road."
"Okay, but he wouldn't know Brett's a horseman. Brett looks like a regular teen."
"Yeah, I know but..."
"if you don't feel safe take Brett back to the car."
Heather smirked, "You're not getting rid of me that easily. I'm not leaving you alone. I'm going with you to that room."
"But you said—
"Being scared is one thing, but you're hopeless by yourself. Also, Brett and I have a plan."
"What's that?"
"Don't worry about just be ready when the time comes." Heather sung a merry tune, ignoring the rest of Marc's questions.
The tour began with much aplomb as the group made it was to the East building going through the glass walkway.
Marc leaned over to Heather, " I was wondering, but has anyone toured the other building. It has to be the breeding stations, right? I never heard anyone at school mention it, not even randomly in the hallway."
"I can't imagine the breeding station's as family friendly." Heather stated.
"Fair but, they don't have to be occupied on the tour dates." Marc shot back.
Once again, the two stood under the towering building and its adorning M. Brett pointed to the building and looked at Marc "That's how big my nuts are." He immediately got hit by Heather on the arm.
Mr. Karter lead the group to the top floor Where much like last time he offered to answer any questions. Marc patiently waited till they reached the second floor and got passed the lunch room.
"Any questions?" Mr. Karter asked.
A reporter's hands shot up. "Why are you giving the tour? Don't most other employees handle this?"
Heather leaned over to Marc and whispered. "Ego trip." The duo laughed.
Mr. Karter answered, " Many people claim that CEO's have no idea how their business is fun so I decided that I should participate in tour giving, not all of them though. I don't want people to get bored of me." The crowd laughed.
Heather rolled her eyes and nudged Brett. The horseman immediately raised his hand. "I have a question." He moved through the group walking to the front. Heather pulled Marc to the back.
"How big are these containers? How many gallons do they hold?" Brett asked walking over to the railing to overlook the floor.
Mr. Karter opened his mouth, but Brett had another question, "How many off days do the workers get?" He kept walking forward. Mr. Karter tried to grab him but stepped back. It was as if Mr. Karter was moving through molasses, but that wasn't what happen Brett simply moved too fast.
Marc blinked several times, He looked at heather who wore a grin, "I told you, Horsemen are fast and being on the track team doesn't hurt."
Brett kept running his mouth while Mr. Karter and even a Few workers tried to grab him. The group look on in amazement as they watch a 19yr old outmaneuver adults.
"Come on," Heather pulled Marc away. They scurried to the third floor and up to the employee's lounge. Once again empty, no doubt due to the tour going on. The same table with chairs, a microwave on the counters, and a whiteboard.
Heather and Marc stepped inside. Marc went up to the whiteboard. There was nothing, but marketing strategies on the board. All the pictures were gone. Marc without hesitation started looking through the cabinets.
"This is so weird." Heather turned around getting a 360 view of the room.
"Really? Seems like a normal lounge to me." Marc replied.
"That's what makes it weird. I half expected a fat doll of Mr. Karter to be on the table saying give me money." She started to explore around the room.
"Heather, be serious this is corporate espionage." Marc stated finding only paper clips and rubber bands.
"Is it tho?" Heather mocked him. She spotted a filing cabinet over in the corner. "Holy- Marc look for a key!"
"A key?" Marc turned his head. "What do I need a key for?"
"This filing cabinet. My mom bought some of these for my dad-he doesn't use them, but that's not important." She waved for Marc to come over. " This is a cabinet for documents you want secure. You see these numbers on the draw 100, 200, 300? Inside of the draw there are lockboxes. Any key with the corresponding number opens the draw, but only the specific key works on the lock box." Heather got up and went to the cabinets looking, "I doubt they kept it in here, but there might be a spare. It's not that big."
Marc chuckled, "A key like this?" He pulled out the small 117 key he had been carrying around since the incident.
"That's it!" Heather exclaimed, "Wait, were did you get that?"
"Fell out of Weston's pocket...when Ken you know." Marc stated, "Though I don't think this is going to work the number doesn't match."
Heather bopped Marc on the head. "Marc it's a 100 key you use it on the top draw obviously!"
Rubbing his head Marc inserted the key and lit up when it turned. He pulled the draw out. Exactly as Heater said long thin black lock boxes filled the draw. Marc shifted through the numbers.
"This is weird. It goes up to 120 but they're only 10 boxes in here."
"Do you see yours?" Heather peeked into the cabinet.
"Yeah but—
"Then grab it and let's go!"
Marc pulled out the lockbox labeled 117. "What am I going to do with it. Heather snatched the key and locked the cabinet back.
"Hide it in your hoodie," Marc did as she said as the two made their way out.
The two tried to find their way back to the group, but they were stopped. A voice called out to them "Stop right there!"
Marc prayed, hoping not to see the woman from last time. Thankfully, a woman in her 50's was yelling at them. Which meant Marc was not a repeat offender.
"What are you two doing away from the group?"
Heather twirled a curl in her hair and started giggling, "My boyfriend and I just wanted to find a nice spot and make out."
Marc was taken aback as Heather kissed him on the lips. He kissed her back. Hoping the lady didn't notice how scared he was.
"Okay young people, that's enough. While I know you can't, please try to control your relentless hormones. The group is already on the first floor almost go find them." She pointed to the stairs for the couple to leave.
The teens ran by her. Marc looked at Heather, "What was that?"
She wiped her mouth with her arm, " That was an executive decision. We were in a tight spot I made a play."
"Looks like it work though didn't it?" Marc smiled.
They rejoined the group. It was fairly easy after all it seemed the group was more interested in Brett's motor mouth and the questions, he had than what was going on. Brett dialed back when he spotted heather and Marc. He faded into the back as he joined the other two.
"Mission complete." Marc gave a thumbs up.
The trio stuck close together as the tour ended. Though Mr. Karter wasn't going to let anyone leave without trying a taste of Bullmen milk.
This time Marc happily took a sip. In an instant he was transported it felt like he was watching the night sky under the stars. His cock started to grow hard.
Brett finished his glass, "You guys are going to think I'm crazy but when I was drinking this, I felt like it was the first day of Autumn. That's all I could think about."
"That's the power of Bullmen milk." Mr. Karter came up and placed an arm around Brett's neck and shoulders. " Ah and it's Marcus! My lovely neighbor."
"It's Marc." Heather cut in, her tone revealing she was in no mood for Mr. Karter. "Do I know you?" Mr. Karter scratched his head. "Oh yes, the lovely daughter of the family with the Horsemen farm?"
"You don't have to fake niceties with me. I know you don't respect what we do, or like Horsemen." Heather stated.
Marc was trying to communicate to Heather to shut the hell up. He was still carrying the stolen lockbox. The last thing they need was an argument or to draw attention.
Mr. Karter laughed, "My dear, I don't hate Horsemen. I'm just aware they have no use to me."
Brett removed Mr. Karter's arm, "I think Horsemen have many talents. You'd be surprised."
"Trust me I'm quite aware of how special they are, but at Milkem we don't need them. One of our former sister companies dabbled in all that nonsense."
The conversation was going above Marc's head, but Heather and Brett were getting angrier while Mr. Karter kept his smile. He didn't even know he was insulting them. or worse he knew and didn't care.
"You know what!" Heather stepped up to him, only to be dragged off by Marc. "Nice to see you again!" Brett followed closely behind flipping the CEO off.
The three got into the car and Heather screamed. "I hate that guy! Every word he said is more condescending than the last." She pulled the car out of the parking lot as fast as she could.
When they were finally a few minutes away she relaxed. Marc pulled the lockbox out of his hoodie. He held it in his hands. Not heavy at all but something was in it. An obsidian black color with 117 labeled at the top and a keyhole on the right hand side.
Brett tapped the Marc's back "Let's open this bad boy up."
Marc took a deep breath inserting the key and opening the box. Even Heather was sneaking glances to make sure she could see what was inside.
Upon opening it Marc found a tan folder marked with the words `Case File'. At the top two pictures attached with a paper clip. Marc took off the photos it was a picture of Weston and Javier, but they weren't in their work uniform. They were posing for a headshot Id photo in casual clothes. On the back of each photo was their respective names.
Brett leaned over "If that says case file, was Milkem investigating those two?"
"Only one way to find out," Heather shared. She pulled off to the side of the road. She couldn't drive when her curiosity was so high.
Marc opened up the folder. What awaited him were several packets of papers. At the very top of each page were the words `Company copy', but what caught everyone's eyes were the words Watkins' farm. The first few pages were structured like an essay, but all the words were blacked out. Marc kept turning but there were no words to read anywhere. The next packet was a second section of the 1st packet. This one disturbed the teenagers even more. There was a headshot of Uncle T along with a brief description beside him. His height, weight, age, even health status.
"What is this?" Marc asked. Heather reached over and turned the page. There were candid photos of Cowmen Marc recognize from his farm. They all had descriptions written about them detailing the same information as Uncle T.
"This... this is messed up man." Brett ran his hand through his hair.
Heather grabbed the packet flipping through it, "Uh judging by the way this is structured makes me think. This file has been updated frequently."
"What makes you say that?" Marc asked, Brett seemed just as confused.
"Look, you'll see." Heather said staring out her window.
Marc took that packet back and that's when he tried looking for himself. There was a photo of him laughing at something. When? When had this photo been taken?
The description next to him read: `Tyrone Watkins' nephew he stayed with him the previous summer. Please note he is-
"Why's the rest of your description blacked out?" Brett asked.
"It's not just blacked out," Heather replied, "I think it's been redacted."
"Redacted, why?" Marc asked. "I'm nobody special."
Heather held up two fingers, "There's only ever two reasons to redact something. One it's redundant/unnecessary or, it's information you don't want others to know."
Brett mulled it over, "Okay, but this is theirs why redact it from themselves?"
"Actually, it says company copy. Which means it's not the original." Marc clarified. "And if I had to guess I think I know who had the original. He passed the photos of Weston and Javier along."
Heather put her hand over her mouth, " Your farm was their case! They were assigned to steal milk from you guys."
"That's what I'm thinking." Marc agreed
"Holding up his hand Brett spoke, " Wait, so this wasn't a rouge employee, this is an entire company stealing milk?"
Marc looked at Heather, "How much do you want to bet that the Howard Farm is in one of those case files?"
"And the reason they framed Princeton and killed farmer Randall was because they had been discovered."
"Guys calm down. Don't you think it's a bit insane to think they'd commit murder over some milk?" Brett asked.
Marc cleared his throat, "Weston was going to kill me. He was going to shoot me dead and leave my body to be found."
Brett's face dropped, "Jesus Marc why didn't you tell me!" He gave the black teen a small hug.
"We gotta tell your uncle." Heather pulled back onto the road. Brett sat back and stared out the window. Marc decided to do some more flipping he searched for Ken and Trevor. While their descriptions were entirely redacted, their pictures were circled with the word `Confirmed?' written over them.
What the hell did that mean?
Next, Marc searched for Ayden, He found his photo also circled, but only a portion was redacted similar to Marc's. However, his photo was also circled with the words `Candidate'. Marc started to sweat he searched for more people, Xander and Lyla.
Xander's photo was a shot of him lifting. His description was uncensored unlike Ayden's and Marc's. The words `Possible but undesirable' were written. Under Lyla's none of her description was redacted either, but the word annoying was next to her photo. Marc scanned for more people. Dru and Sheila.
He found them with the words, "Possible candidates" written next to them and their descriptions mostly redacted leaving only a sliver.
Even Ron, the cowman that Trevor had shadowed to be a breeder was on there as a non-candidate.
Heather had been sneaking glances at Marc as he frantically, tore through the pages. "Hey, you are doing alright there Marc?"
"I-I don't know? What is all this candidate stuff? Candidates for what?" Marc voice was panicked.
Marc searched for one more name. He couldn't figure out what was going on. The moment he found the name a calm came over him. But it wasn't a peace full calm it was a cold shiver that froze his nerves. He was numb. Marc set the paper down.
Heather pulled up to the Watkins farm. There was a group of Cowmen standing around. "What's going on here?' Brett shouted.
Ayden came trotting up to the car." Marc you're here! Have you seen Dru and Sheila? They've been missing since this morning!"
Marc stared daggers into the paper he had been holding, He hopped out, slamming the door to Heather's car leaving the paper.
"Hey!" Heather began to shout, but the packet caught her attention. On the page Marc had stopped on was a picture of a girl named Isabella her profile completely redacted and the word `Contact' written underneath.