*If the author of the original fetish fic ever reads this, I hope she knows imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Bella Swan stood on her perch made of overturned milk crates, surveying the barren land. She nibbled on her tin can mindlessly. Bella’s iron stomach made her a perfect hu-goat—a human leading the lifestyle of a goat—candidate. It was at the tender age of four, after consuming three earrings, two crayons, and half a cardboard box, that Bella realized how she wanted to spend her adult life. She wanted—no, needed—to be possessed like chattel. Her proclivity for fainting at loud noises sealed the deal. When she saw the ad in her local penny saver for “SWM Seeks Human Goat,” she applied without delay.
The interview process was grueling. She cried when her new owner, Mr. Edward A. Cullen, called tell her the happy news. Bella nearly missed the call as the prosthetic hooves made it near impossible to work a touch-screen mobile phone. Bella carried no cell phone these days as her custom-made hair suit had no pockets. She shifted her position on the crates, the wood protesting loudly under her weight.
The tin can dropped with a thud when Mr. Cullen exited through the screen door and walked into his expansive back yard. The remote location of his homestead provided them with complete privacy. An urban dwelling wasn’t really an option for a man who liked to keep a hu-goat or two.
“Good morning, Bella,” he said while stroking her soft back fur. “I put some magazines in your feeding trough. I even got you a special Vogue treat.”
Bella bleated and head-butted him affectionately. He knew she preferred the glossier texture of Vogue, not to mention their tastier choice in perfume samples.
“Are you ready for a ride?” Bella meh-ed in the affirmative. It took some getting used to, but Mr. Cullen’s special rides were now her favorite thing in the whole world. Well, her second favorite thing. With Bella, Mr. Cullen was able to marry his bovine herding fetish with his marsupial fetish. He strapped on the custom-made Baby Bjorn, helping Bella navigate her cloven feet through the leg holes. Being a natural hu-goat, Bella liked the altitude the carrier provided and her proximity to her owner was a bonus. She was in heaven, saddled to the front of her keeper.
He paraded her proudly around the yard, stroking her furry calves. Bella bleated every so often to let him know she appreciated the special attention.
“Time for your grooming, Bella,” he whispered. Now this was her favorite part. It was also the apex of Cullen’s hu-goat fetish. He brought his willing captive into the small barn at the back of his property. Removing Bella from the Baby Bjorn without injury was always the most difficult segment of the entire process. After the careful extraction, he placed her atop a sturdy wooden pedestal. Deep hoof-shaped ruts were worn into the surface from times prior.
Edward fastened the safety harness around her waist, tying it to a nearby pole. They’d learned the hard way that cloven limbs provide no traction. The EMTs’ discretion came with a hefty price tag when they were summoned to attend to an unconscious woman wearing a goat pelt. She’d only suffered a slight concussion after toppling off the table, but it wasn’t an experience either of them wanted to repeat.
Plucking a wire brush from a drawer, Edward ran it through Bella’s furry coat. He loved the way it made her hide glisten in the sun, almost like diamonds. He smoothed her white belly fur last as that was the most sensual part for them both. When her bleating cries made it apparent she was ready for him, he released the flap covering her most private parts. He wasted no time filling her. Gripping her furry hindquarters, he worked himself in and out of Bella while she meh-ed wildly. Acting out of instinct, Edward grabbed the grooming brush once again and smacked Bella across her hide. Bella’s cries of animalistic pleasure increased tenfold. He continued to swat her backside and ride her with abandon. Thankful for the harness supporting her weight, Bella shuddered and clenched around Mr. Cullen. Moments later, his cries were nearly as feral as hers when he released into her plush body.
Edward cleaned her up and refastened her modesty flap. Unhooking the harness and helping her down from the table, he led her back out to the yard. She clip-clopped softly behind him. Climbing back onto her milk crate perch, she truly felt like she was king of the hill.