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Message-ID: <62486asstr$1359151801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Ed Rider <edrider73@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Bull Session
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Date: Fri, 25 Jan 2013 17:10:01 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "Bull Session.txt" begin>

Bull Session



   By Ed Rider



   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
the 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 shorts 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.

   So far, three weeks into the semester, he hadn't gotten anywhere with
them, except crude fondling and mauling whenever one of 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 didn'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 crude, 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?" said 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 Australia.  It was simple.  The foundation was a
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 to imitate the genitals of a cow.

   That was the idea of the device.  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 crash and thrash on top of the kart a few seconds 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," said 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 part." 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 pierce 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 be also 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.  This time
it glided in smoothly, and was wiggled around 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 stimulater.  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 in 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, all that stuff inside you will want to
get out in the worst way.  It's a mixture of lubricant, Mr.  Big Stuff's
come and maybe some other stuff that was inside there already.  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 stinking, 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.

   "You're a farmboy, like us, so I know you're not going to turn us in,
because farmboys 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.

   "At least, that's what all of us prefer.  It all depends on you.  We
have some amazing video of you that I think we can sell to a website for
enough money to pay the rest of our tuition and then some.  It would 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,
helpful and friendly.  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.

   "As I said before, it all depends on you.  If the experiment is a
success, we may not become friends, but we'll enjoy being aggies with you
and wishing you success in the future.  If the experiment is a failure,
well, at least we'll make a lot of money on the video.

   "OK, guys, I think Mr.  Big Stuff is soft again.  Let's start pulling
him out of Brad now.  Remember, very slowly." 

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