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Warning: This file contains depictions of adult sexual situations, it also contains non-consentual situations, kidnapping and forced lactation. If it is illegal for you to view this subject matter, or if you are under the age of 18 please do not view this file. If you find these situations unpleasant or offensive please do not view this file. The author takes no responsibility for any illegalities arising from the viewing of this file. The author retains all rights to this story and it is transmitted here by an authorized person, for free viewing only. Retransmission is allowed only if it is in its original form including this message and archiving only by prior permission. Please contact victorramierez@hotmail.com to obtain permission from the author. This is basically so the author knows where his work will be located. Most reasonable inquiries will be happily agreed to. Do not send flames as they will be ignored.

A Fine Mornings Milking

By Victor Ramierez

Terry and Michael were successful businessmen, very successful. Together they ran a company supplying to the kinky and perverse, usually wealthy, members of an underground society. Human milk was their pleasure, and they liked to drink it, fuck around in it, squeeze it out of big milk filled tits, and anything else their warped imaginations could dream up. As such Terry and Michael were kept very busy, constantly looking for new mothers who could provide them with their supply.

In the early days they had started out at a kind of rape club. Terry and Michael had needed some cash and had heard about a club that was always looking for some able bodies to help 'acquire' some new talent. It was simple back then, drive up to some young thing late at night and grab her in the van. They'd deliver her to the club and then she'd be the star attraction for the next night's show.

After a few months of proving that they were very good at their job, they were approached by one the club members, Mr Thomas.

Mr Thomas was an older man, late fifties or so, with grey hair and a big bushy moustache. He was a tall thin man, who was very kind and friendly to all of the staff here at the club. It was a strange contrast to the man, who when it was his turn, could get up on stage and merrily tear some little virgin's cherry out to the resounding applause of the audience.

It seemed Mr Thomas wanted something a little different, he wanted his own private conquests. And after receiving the ok from the boss, they went on a special trip for Mr Thomas.

Mr Thomas wanted a new mother, one whose titties were overflowing with milk. Terry and Michael were very good at their job and found the perfect specimen at the supermarket. They grabbed her from the car park with no fuss at all, it's amazing what these women will do when you hold a knife to their baby's throat.

Mr Thomas had a fantastic time, squeezing her d cup tits, squirting her milk all over his face and chest, as she unwillingly rode his cock in the middle of the stage before finishing doggy style in her virgin arsehole as they held her bub up in front of her to remind her why she was co-operating.

They were paid very well for this extra service, and then, like wildfire, word spread. Terry and Michael were being flooded with calls, it seemed that they were being highly recommended by Mr Thomas to several of his associates in other social circles. Suddenly they were getting requests for the milk itself, if they could get it. Once money was mentioned, Terry and Michael decided that they most certainly would be able to get it, and set about creating their business, which their clients jokingly referred to as milkmen.

It had been several years since they had left the confines of the club and now they worked exclusively with an entire underground community. Once obtained these tasty little motherly morsels would be used and abused, and either kept for milking purposes or they would be absorbed into the community, possibly as private cows at the houses of the wealthy, they didn't know and they didn't care.

Today was welfare payment day, and it was the day a lot of their potential candidates would come out to go shopping with their payment. Terry had been watching a possible candidate for a few weeks now, they did a lot more research these days, as they didn't want their acquisitions to be missed. This one was a big titted, dirty-blonde longhaired 30-something. They had noticed her around in the past, her large d-cup sized tits had naturally grabbed their attention. Now that she had given birth, probably to the spawn of some drunk loser, her tits had swollen larger still. She would be a definite hit with the group, they just needed to wait for the right moment to invite her along.

Terry watched from the front seat of his sedan. The car was navy blue, nothing special about it at all so it blended in nicely. People wouldn't give the car a  second glace, and didn't notice the non-descript black haired guy sitting inside it.

Terry checked his notes, this one was called Sharon, and her baby was a little boy called Brandon. He watched Sharon push the pram across the car park to her beat up old car, load her son and her few bags of groceries into the car, before climbing in behind to the wheel to head off.

With a splutter the car started up and she made her way out of the car park, unaware that Terry was following her.

Sharon moved around her little kitchen, placing items in the pantry and into the fridge. Just as she poured herself a cup of coffee and laid Brandon down in his cot for a sleep, the doorbell rang.

She opened the door and found an average looking bespectacled man standing there, smiling at her. He looked up and she noticed the white collar around his neck. He was a priest! Quickly she smiled nicely at him, her catholic upbringing coming out in her.

"Hello my dear," said Terry in his best fake Irish accent.

"Hello Father, what can I do for you?"

"Well I'm just visitin' the local members of my flock, and I see on our records that you're one of ours but haven't been to see us for a little while," he said with a kindly smile.

"Oh, yes you're right," she said almost ashamed that she'd been caught out. Her Catholic upbringing had pretty much gone out the window when she'd left home but there were some things that were very deeply ingrained.

"That's ok, I just thought I'd pop in and say hello, if you don't mind of course?"

"That's fine father," she was a bit flustered by this, but happy that she'd had time to straighten up a bit before she went out this morning.

Terry was sitting at the little table in the corner of the kitchen, enjoying the coffee, and trying not to stare at her magnificent tits.

"So is there a father?" he asked pointing to the baby's cot, knowing full well that the father was long gone.

"No..., not anymore," she said sadly. "He was a loser, like all the men I seem to end up with," she sniffed as though she was about to burst into tears.

"Don't worry about that darlin'," he said as he took her hand in his, and gave it a reassuring rub.

"Thank you Father."

Sharon was surprised at just how easily she had taken to this priest, he was so kind and friendly. It was a shame he was a priest in some ways, he probably was a much better man than all the ones she'd dated.

"This public housing is nice, cheap too eh?" he asked as she nodded in response. "So how are you getting on for money? Anything we can do to help you out love?"

She gave him a lovely smile, and shook her head. "No Father there's no need, we're fine. Save it for someone who really needs it."

Michael was sitting outside in the back of the van, watching and listening on the monitor screens set up inside the van. The little pinhole camera and microphone in Terry's glasses were working perfectly and they were getting it all on tape. These tapes were always a popular way to start the evening, the audience at their shows always enjoyed seeing how the guys had managed to obtain their victim.

Michael was chuckling as he listened to Terry, and he was enjoying her responses too.

"Save it for someone who needs it, oh give me a break!"

Brandon let out a cry and started to get quite agitated in his cot. Terry took the opportunity to quietly open the front door while Sharon was distracted with Brandon, which would allow Michael to get in when the moment arose.

Michael saw what had happened and quickly made his way from the van outside, up to the front door of the little house. He peered inside and saw where the table was, and prepared himself to get the ball rolling.

Sharon took another sip of her coffee, she had managed to settle Brandon down and had returned to her guest. With a loud crash her front door was kicked in, and a large man charged into the room, holding a gun. Like a deer in the headlights, she stared at him, unable to comprehend what was going on.

Suddenly the priest jumped to his feet and turned to face the intruder.

"What do you think you're doing, you scallywag?"

"Father, sit down," she hissed at him. "You'll just get yourself hurt."

"Don't worry about me," he said chuckling. He turned his back on the intruder who was now grinning at her. "Worry about yourself."

He also had a gun in his hand now, she didn't know where it had come from, and she had no idea what was going on.

"Father, what are you doing?"

"You stupid girl," he said, without the accent. "You should never let a stranger into your house, you don't know what he might want to do to you, or Brandon."

Michael picked Brandon up out of the cot by the front of his jumpsuit and dangled him in his mother's general direction.

"No!" she squealed, and attempted to leap to her son's aid.

"Sit down," said Terry as he intercepted her and shoved her backwards into her seat. "Now I think it's time we had a little talk, don't you?"

Sharon took her gaze off her son for an instant and nodded at the man she thought was a priest.

"What are you people doing? Is it money you're after? You've come to the wrong place for that," she laughed bitterly.

"You stupid bitch," Terry glared at her coldly, almost whispering his statements. "We know you haven't got any fucking money, so don't insult us. We just want you and Brandon to come for a little ride with us."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she spat at him.

Michael laughed as he pulled a switchblade knife from his pocket. With a click the blade appeared and he began to slide the flat of the blade back and forwards over the yellow cotton of Brandon's jumpsuit. With a flick of his wrist he popped the top button off the jumpsuit with the sharp edge of the knife.

That was all Sharon needed to see. "Ok, we'll come. Don't hurt him please," she hung her head in defeat. She had no idea what these people wanted, but she guessed she wasn't going to like it.

Calmly and peacefully, she had quickly gathered Brandon's things as though they were going away for a few weeks holiday. Then she followed Michael out to her car, from which he removed her child restraint and took it to the van parked out the front. She heard her front door close and Terry came out carrying Brandon and his bags.

"Get in your car, Brandon's going in the van, and you're taking me for a drive."

She started to open her mouth to protest, but Terry cut her off.

"Don't bother, I've heard them all before. There is no reason that you can give me which will get Brandon back here in the car with you," he said pointing at her dusty car. She watched Brandon disappear as the big man slid the van door closed behind him.

"Now if you want to see him again, you'll get in the car and drive me where I want to go."

Terry directed Sharon, as the van had quickly gotten away from her old bomb car, it. Sharon was numb, she wanted to cry, to lash out at the man, or go and hide, but she knew she could do none of them. So she sae quietly and followed his instructions.

They had driven across town to the industrial area, then down a service road to an old house, hidden behind the factories.

"Do you like it? It took us months to find something that was just right."

Sharon didn't know what to say, it looked like something out of the movie Psycho, and she was starting to worry that maybe the resemblance to a slasher movie wasn't going to end there.

"You're quiet. Starting to wonder what you've gotten yourself into eh? Guess you'll think twice about letting anyone at all into your house then won't you?"

Terry chuckled as she parked the car in front of the door on the circular gravel driveway, and gingerly climbed out as Terry made his way around the car and stood waiting for her at the bottom of the steps.

"Hurry up, Brandon's waiting for you," he said pointing over at the now empty van parked nearby.

She made her way out of the car and followed him up the steps to the old solid wood front door. He turned the handle and pushed it open, waiting for her to go inside and then followed her in, closing and locking it behind him.

She stood in the foyer looking around at the old house, at the strange old paintings and cabinets of stuff adorning the walls.

"We left all that old stuff up, it just sort of works," said Terry as he pushed her forwards, ushering her towards the lounge room off to the left.

Inside the lounge room, there was an old green velvet couch, which had a tall thin older lady sitting on it. She looked up from her knitting, and stared at the woman from over the top of her glasses.

"Is this today's?" she asked wearily.

"Yes Helen," said Terry as he shoved Sharon forwards. "This is Sharon."

"Sharon eh? Well let's get a look at you then." She stood up and put down the jumper she was knitting. She slowly circled the younger woman, taking in the sight of her pink halter neck top and knee length denim skirt. She was wearing cork high heels and big gold hoop earrings.

"Is she a stupid blonde, or does she just dress that way?" asked Helen after staring at her for a few moments.

"Ask her," suggested Terry from the chair he was lounging around in.

"Well are you?"

"N...no, I'm not."

"Good, so you just have no taste in clothes then. Well that won't present a problem here."

Terry snickered.

"Quiet Terry," said Helen, glaring at him.

"Just remember who's in charge Helen," said Terry, not taking a liking to being told off in front of Sharon.

Helen picked up one of her knitting needles and wandered around Sharon, using it as a pointer.

"Arse is a bit big," she gave it a whack with the needle, and was met with a cry from Sharon. "Tits are good, full of milk I expect?"

Sharon stared at her.

"Well, are they?"

"What?"

"Full of milk, you stupid bitch?" yelled Helen as she gave her another whack on the backside with the knitting needle.

"Yes, what do you expect, I have a new baby."

"Good, that's what I like to hear." Helen reached out and grabbed hold of Sharon's tit, and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Hey!" she yelled, and slapped Helen's hand away from her chest.

"You'll soon learn to do as you're told," whispered Helen as she gave Sharon another, harder whack with the needle.

Chapter 2

Sharon had been led into one of the bedrooms and was then left alone. She sat down on the edge of the bed, and jumped up as her aching cheeks pressed against the bed. Gingerly she sat down again, doing her best to avoid the spots where she had been whipped with the knitting needle.

She had no idea what was going on, but she had some nasty suspicions.

It was a moment or two before she noticed the old fashioned cot on the other side of the room, and she ran over to see if her son was inside it.

A little folded piece of paper was inside the cot, which she grabbed and quickly opened up.

'Look up' it said.

She looked up and saw an old black and white TV screen, and on it she could see the big man nursing Brandon. With a crackle the speaker came to life, and she could hear her son making little baby noises.

"He's nice and quiet at the moment, and he's perfectly fine. As long as you do as you're told he will remain fine. If you cause us trouble, then we will happily gut your son, and sell his carcass to a very twisted group of people we know who are into cannibalism. I'm sure they'd love a roast Brandon dinner."

She gasped in horror, and Terry chuckled in the control room down the hall. They didn't really know any cannibals but it always sounded frightening to these gullible women.

"What do you say?"

"What do you want from me!" she yelled, almost in tears.

"That's better. Stand in the hallway and go with the man who comes to collect you."

She was led downstairs to a large gymnasium style shower room, with many shower nozzles along one wall.

"Clean yourself up," said the large black man, who stood lounging against the doorframe. She looked over at his large muscular frame, accentuated by the tight jeans and skin-tight black singlet top he was wearing.

"Do I get any privacy?"

"No," chuckled the voice over the speaker. "Think of this like reality TV, there are cameras everywhere. No privacy anywhere, ever."

She stood there for a moment trying to decide.

"Brandon says he doesn't want to be someone's dinner, Mummy."

Immediately she reached up and started to untie the knot holding her top up around her neck. She could hear the bastard laughing at her over the speakers, but there was nothing she could do. She gritted her teeth and reached down to the front of her bra and undid it. Her tits popped free, and briefly it felt good to have them unconstrained. Immediately the black man let out a whistle of appreciation, and she turned red with embarrassment.

"Those are mighty fine titties, bitch. Damn they're hot!"

"Please, don't look," she begged.

He laughed and pulled over a plastic stool to sit down in front of her and watch the show.

She undid the zip at the back of her skirt when she realised he wasn't going to turn away, and allowed it to slide to her ankles. She stepped out of it and placed it on the small bench she had dropped her top and bra onto. She stood in her white panties and looked around the room for some kind of reprieve from this voyeurism, but there was none coming. She slowly slid them down and placed them on the seat to reveal her cleanly shaven pussy.

"Nice, is that how you normally have it or was that just for the hospital?"

She glared up at the speakers, how dare he ask her such a question.

"Come on, Brandon wants to know."

"Damn you, it was for the hospital."

"I think I like it, I think you should keep it that way."

She turned away from the black man who was watching her with interest, and moved to the far end of the room. She turned on the shower and looked around for the soap.

"Is there any soap?"

"I think you must have dropped it," came the voice from above.

She looked down and saw the cake of soap on the ground.

"Oh very good!" she cursed them. There was no way she could pick it up without either showing off her arse, or giving them a great cleavage show.

Clenching her cheeks together she bent over and presented her backside to them. The black man wolf whistled her, and again she turned red in embarrassment.

She quickly started rubbing the soap over herself and then rinsed it off, wanting to get out of the shower as quickly as possible.

The black man stood up and threw her a towel, which she quickly dried herself and then wrapped it around herself to try and maintain some dignity.

"Ok, back to your room. Get some sleep, you've got a big night ahead."

Sharon hadn't been able to sleep, she had just laid on the bed, wondering when these sheets were last washed, and desperately wanting to see her son. They had taken her clothes away so she had no choice but to retreat under the covers, as she didn't want them seeing any more of her than she could avoid. She had taken a cursory glace at the windows and found them all barred and the doors locked, there was no easy way out, and she couldn't leave her son here anyway.

She didn't know how long she'd been lying there, and she knew it was past Brandon's mealtime. Her breasts were heavy with milk and they were aching and starting to leak.

The door was thrown open and she peered up at the silhouette in the doorway, it looked like it was Helen.

"Get up, it's dinner time." Helen threw her a bathrobe and she quickly pulled it on. She followed Helen down the hall, back downstairs to the dining room.

With a shout of joy she ran towards the pram where Brandon was laying, gurgling at the ceiling.

An arm shot out and grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around.

"Sit down," said Terry, pointing at a chair as far away from Brandon as possible.

"Can I just see Brandon, he needs to be fed."

"Don't worry we'll take care of that." Terry clapped his hands together, and from a side door, a naked black woman with massive tits emerged. She was wearing a black leather bra, which was simply leather straps around the base of her tits, leaving them totally exposed and unsupported. Her hair had been shaved off so she was totally bald, and she did not lift her face to look at them.

"Feed the brat," commanded Terry.

To her horror, Sharon watched as the black woman lifted her left tit, squeezed it a couple of times until some droplets of milk began to appear on her nipple, and then picked up Brandon.

"No, please! Don't let her feed him. I'll do it!"

"Sorry, it's time for you to eat. Don't worry, she's clean he won't catch anything."

The woman lifted Brandon to her breast and he latched on and began to suck.

Sharon watched in horror for a moment and then dropped her head, too upset to watch any longer.

She looked up a moment later, anger in her eyes and a newfound determination.

"Look there it is," cheered Terry. "You owe me ten dollars!"

Michael grumbled and handed him a $10 note.

"I was right, I knew it would only take seeing Janice feeding poor little Brandon, to get mummy all riled up."

The angry words halted in her throat, these bastards were playing with her.

She looked down at her empty plate, and tried to decide what to do next.

Something was put down on the plate in front of her, and realising she was hungry she started to eat, without even really looking at it. Her mind was racing, she really didn't know what the hell was going on here.

She looked up, Terry, Michael and Helen were all eating their chicken casually and watching her like she was some sort of new pet.

Quickly she finished her dinner, forcing the others to hurry up to catch up with her.

"Ok then, time to get dressed." Terry clapped his hands together again and Janice walked in, this time carrying a silver tray with some leather goods on it.

The plate of food was taken away, and the tray was placed on the table in front of Sharon.

Sharon looked at the tray, on it was a pair of black leather pants with no crotch, one of those black leather strap bras with no cups, and a chain with little clamps on each end. She imagined where that was intended to go.

"Get dressed," commanded Terry, as he picked Brandon up out of his cot, and began to stroke his hair like he was a cat.

Sharon stood up, looked at the faces all watching her, and then opened her robe to reveal her naked, tanned skin.

"They'll like the way her tan lines highlight her tits and pussy, see how they're whiter than the rest of her," commented Helen.

"We know, you say that every time we get some bitch in who's been in the sun for 5 seconds," said Michael.

Sharon was quickly dressing, she slipped the pants on, grateful to at least be partially covered. She then slipped the bra over her tits, and then looked down at the chain.

"Janice, please do the honours," instructed Terry.

The black woman nodded her head, never meeting the eye of her master. She walked over to Sharon and picked up the chain. She looked into Sharon's eyes and Sharon could see that there was nothing there, this woman had been totally broken.

With a sharp jab of pain, Janice grabbed Sharon's nipple and pinched it. It quickly became erect and then Janice opened the little alligator clip on the chain and closed it on the nipple.

Sharon grabbed hold of the table and cried out, she hadn't been expecting this to be as painful as it was.

As she bent over forwards, Janice reached around her and fixed the other end of the chain to her other nipple.

Sharon nearly collapsed, but before she could do anything else Terry had grabbed hold of the chain, passing Brandon to Janice, and suddenly yanked it forwards like a dog leash.

Sharon gasped in pain, and lurched forwards as directed. Terry led her out of the dining room, along the hall and out towards the back of the house. She noticed that where the back door would once have stood, the house had been added onto, and a new larger room awaited her.

On one side of the room was row after row of chairs, she took in all the faces staring at her, looking at her naked body on display. Every seat in the house was full, and their eyes were all glued to her.

She hesitated to walk any further, and she could feel Terry becoming more insistent as he yanked on her chain. Then Janice pushed past her carrying her baby, and gave Brandon to an older man sitting in the front row.

She wanted to grab her son, and Terry led her over in that direction.

"Evening, Mr Thomas, enjoy the video?"

"Yes we did, so this is her then is it Terry?" asked Mr Thomas as he reached up and grabbed Sharon by the chin, turning her head from side to side to get a good look at her face.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, slapping his hand away from her face.

"Feisty, eh? Good! Very good," smiled Mr Thomas. Suddenly the hand of this older man, almost looking like someone's grandfather, shot up and seized hold of her left nipple. He twisted it around with the clamp, and smiled as she began to writhe in pain. "Do as you're told, and it will be so much less painful for yourself."

He grabbed Brandon off the lap of the older woman sitting next to him.

"And, it will be so much less painful for Brandon too," he said as he flicked a lighter out of his pocket and snapped the top open. The little flame popped out of the top of the old fashioned silver, heavy looking lighter. She watched the flame dance in the slight breeze as he moved it ever closer to Brandon's naked arm.

"Stop! Don't do that. Please, I'll do whatever you want."

"I thought you might see it that way," he grinned as he snapped the lighter closed and popped it back into his pocket.

"I think I like this one Terry," he motioned for Terry to spin her around so he could see her better.

Terry grabbed hold of the chain and yanked her into motion again, slowly she walked around in a circle, giving Mr Thomas a good look at her.

"Yes darling, she looks like just the sort of little cow you like. Why don't you go and play with her," suggested the gold and pearl encrusted, refined looking older lady sitting next to him.

"I think I will darling, here hold this baby will you please. You know what to do if she doesn't want to co-operate."

"Yes dear," she said with a warning glare in Sharon's direction.

Chapter 3

Sharon looked around at the group before her. The room was totally black, the chairs, walls, curtains everything. It seemed to suck all colour out of the room, leaving her as a beacon of colour and life on an otherwise lifeless, black stage.

"Ok cow, you're lucky enough to get Mr Thomas himself," said Helen as she grabbed Sharon by the back of her neck. She pushed her forwards and after a moment of resistance, Sharon sank to her knees on the stage.

"Get down on all fours like the little bitch that you are," instructed Terry.

Sharon hesitated for a moment, and looked up to see Mrs Thomas holding Brandon. She moved down and put her hands out to hold herself up. Her milk filled tits swung down under her like two large pendulums. She saw Mr Thomas standing in front of her watching this, and she saw his cock hardening in his trousers.

Mr Thomas was very eager to get moving, as soon as he saw the little slut down on her hands and knees in front of him, he couldn't wait to get his hands on her big titties. He threw his jacket down, and yanked his tie off. He quickly undid his belt, unfastened his pants and began to unbutton his shirt. The he flicked his shoes off, stepped out of his pants, and quickly removed his boxers. He dropped the shirt onto the pile and stood there wearing only his socks.

"A new record time!" yelled Terry from off to the side.

A light chorus of laughter arose from the audience, and then promptly went silent again.

Mr Thomas moved in behind the anxious woman, he reached out and touched her buttocks and she nearly jumped off the stage. He laughed, and moved her knees a bit further apart. Quickly he dropped onto the stage floor on his back, and slid himself between her legs, inching himself along the floor so that he was laying underneath her, her massive tits hanging down in his face.

"Ahh, this is heaven."

He reached up and took hold of her engorged breasts, one in each hand. He began to squeeze and work her tits around, always moving his hands in a downward motion, directing them towards her nipples. He began to squeeze her nipples and was quickly met with a few drops of milk.

"We've got milk!" he yelled, to the applause of the audience.

Sharon was wondering what the hell was going on, and now she had some ideas. She guessed these people were here for a show, and they were some kind of kinky lactation freaks. Perhaps she wasn't going to be raped after all.

After a few more movements, squeezing her breasts and pulling downwards like they were giant udders, more and more milk would flow freely from her nipples when he squeezed them. He lifted his head up enough to suck one of her nipples into his mouth, and he began to suck firmly on her teat. She squealed, and he liked that. He began to chew on her nipple, rolling it around his mouth as her co-operative tit filled his mouth with her warm titty milk.

After a few moments he changed sides and started on the other nipple, being met with the same favourable response.

He allowed the milk to squirt all over his face and chest, before he reluctantly pulled himself out from under her.

"Wow!" he said as he turned to show the entire audience his naked hairy chest, dripping with her milk.

The audience applauded again, and he dropped to his knees behind her.

He quickly rubbed his hand through his chest hair, getting it all wet and then rubbed it over his erect cock. He lined his cockhead up with her defenceless pussy and began to push forwards, he felt himself slide into her, assisted by the milky lubrication, and she squealed as she felt him slide into her.

"No!" she yelled out in shock.

"Oh yeah little milk cow, you've been milked and now it's time to be put out for stud service."

He rammed himself in as far as he could go, and reached underneath her to cup her tits, and began puling down on them, milking them like a cow. Her milk shot out and sprayed all over the black plastic which Terry has laid out only moments before she had come into the room.

"Oh yeah! That's it baby, squirt out your milk for me."

Sharon moaned in pain as she felt her tits being manhandled, and her poor pussy being reamed by his big cock. With a sudden thrust he rammed it all the way in, causing a spasm to run through the length of her sore pussy.

"You're getting a bit dry there miss milker," Mr Thomas snapped his fingers and Terry came over carrying a tube of lube.

Mr Thomas slipped his big cock out of her and quickly squeezed some lube onto it.

He began to slide his hand up and down the length of it, getting it all nice and slippery. He moved back into position and lined his cock up with her unsuspecting arsehole. With a quick movement, he lunged forwards spearing the tip of his cock into her little anus, and began to slowly force his way inside her.

"Arrgh!" she screamed, her arse felt like it was being ripped in two. She didn't go in for that anal stuff, so this was the first time she'd ever had anyone try to put a cock in there. And she didn't like it!

"Stop!"

"It's time for you to learn your place," he said as he thrust his cock into her in time with each word.

Finally he was in her arse up to the base of his cock, and he could feel her muscle holding his cock. Dear god she was tight!

"Terry, make sure you try her arse, she is unbelievably tight!" recommended Mr Thomas as he began to thrust in and out of her, as she grunted in pain with each movement.

"I'll be sure to do that," said Terry as he was enjoying the show from a stool on the edge of the stage.

"Oh she's really got me all fired up. I'm going to come soon," he groaned.

"Make sure you come in her cunt, don't waste it in her arse dear!" yelled his wife from the front row.

"I'll remember," he yelled as he whipped his cock out of her arse and shoved it all the way into her pussy. With a final deep thrust he began to squirt his hot seed into her womb, and she groaned in consternation.

Some strange weirdo was squirting his come into her unprotected pussy, all she needed now was to get pregnant again, that would just push her over the edge into deeper despair.

"Now that's what I call a fuck that's worth every cent!" yelled Mr Thomas as he pulled out of her pussy, gave her a hard slap on the arsecheek and stood up. A mixture of his come and other juices dripped off the end of his cock as he stood over her, arms held high, soaking up the applause he was receiving.

"If anyone's thirsty..." he yelled as he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her upright on her knees. "Her tits are still serving drinks," and gave the nearest nipple a squeeze to squirt some milk out.

Quickly a group of people surrounded her and she felt a mouth close over each nipple. She looked down to see Mrs Thomas pressing her lipstick covered lips over her left nipple, while some little fat man was rubbing his moustached mouth over her right one. If they hadn't been holding her up, she would have fallen down in an abused heap.

"Well I think that went quite well Terry. You've found us another really nice one," said Mr Thomas, his jacket slung over the crook of his arm as he did up the last button on his shirt. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his billfold. He peeled off a few notes and handed them to him.

"Here's a little bonus for doing such a good job."

"Thanks Mr Thomas, my pleasure."

Mr Thomas looked across at the new woman, still being molested by a small, yet enthusiastic crowd.

"Don't let them drain her dry, we want to be able to put her to use in the dairy tomorrow."

"Yes Mr Thomas."

Chapter 4

The next day Sharon was taken out to the milking shed which was an old wooden building towards the rear of the property. Here Sharon discovered to her horror, that they had a fully equipped dairy. Before her, seated in metal chairs to which they were strapped down, sat thirty or so young women. All of them had a small funnel looking device on each nipple, connected to a long tube that ran down to a machine alongside them. She watched as the machines churned, causing their nipples to be sucked into the funnels again and again. Drop after drop of their milk inched its way along the clear tubing, to end up in glass containers alongside the machines. She wondered how long they had been sitting there for.

She was marched towards the rear of the shed, her naked feet scuffing over the dirt floor. Before her stood a cold metal chair, currently vacant. The man behind her spun her around and forced her naked arse down into the seat. Quickly her arms and legs were strapped to the chair and a strap was wrapped around her lower ribs. She looked up to see another new face, a large Mexican looking man, who held two of the milking tubes, and with a lop-sided grin, he stepped forwards and began fastening them to her abused tits.

With a flick of a switch she heard the motor kick into life and the tubes began to drag on her nipples.

This went on for a couple of minutes before her tits finally relented and started allowing her milk to flow. She sat there, wallowing in her terror, wondering how long she'd be on the machine for.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" shouted Terry, to thunderous applause from the crowd.

"Tonight we have a special treat, our new cow Sharon is back!"

A mixture of applause and wolf whistles rang out around the room.

"And not only that, we also have a second treat for this evening's show. The lovely Mrs Thomas," he said sweeping his arm over in her direction.

Dressed in a lovely full length, dark red, shimmering evening gown with plunging neckline, sat a smiling Mrs Thomas. Her skin shone with a healthy glow as all eyes in the room followed the plunging neckline down into her cleavage as she stood up and spun to face them and gave a theatrical, and very low, bow. She walked up onto stage, straightening her very expensive looking pearls, and touching her long grey hair to make sure it was sitting in place in the bees nest hairdo she had arranged it in this evening.

"You look lovely this evening Mrs T," said Terry, smiling at the influential looking woman.

"Thank you Terry. Always look your best, at all times. Remember that Terry," she said with a nod as she moved alongside the curtain and pulled the cord to open it, revealing the stage and Sharon down on her hands and knees.

Sharon looked up at the audience, unsure of what was happening tonight. She guessed it would be more of the same as last night. Helen was standing alongside her, holding the lead that was connected to the black leather dog collar she was wearing, which was all she was wearing.

"Hello dear, had a nice day," asked the old woman from last night. She was gazing down into Sharon's eyes lustfully. Sharon shuddered as she felt the woman's fingertips touch her shoulder blade and then run down the length of her spine to stop on her tailbone.

"Such lovely skin you have dear, make sure you always take care of it."

Sharon thought just how bizarre this was, she was here naked on all fours and this woman was giving her motherly advice as though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

The older woman walked behind her, and she felt a hand squeeze her buttock, testing it like a piece of fruit.

"Very nice, indeed," said Mrs Thomas as she gently rubbed the girl's arseflesh beneath the palm of her hand.

"Do you have my equipment," she asked Terry over her shoulder.

"Of course Mrs T," Terry stepped forwards, holding out a belt with a big fat black dildo attached to it.

"Very good," murmured the older woman as she lovingly stroked the plastic cock with the tips of her fingers. "Just lovely."

In a most elegant and graceful way, she allowed her dress to slip down off her shoulders and drop to the ground around her ankles. She stepped out and one of the junior people scuttled from the side of the stage to grab it off the ground and then quickly disappeared back into the darkness.

"Hang that up for me dear," she yelled at the retreating man, who nodded vigorously. "Such a nice young man," she said as she reached back to unfasten the black lace bra she was wearing.

With a chorus of rowdy wolf whistles and cat calls, she pulled her bra off to expose her large tits to the audience.

"Settle down, that's enough of that," she chuckled. "You've seen it all before."

"And it gets better every time," yelled a male voice from the audience.

"Is that you Michael? You're such a charmer, you'll make me blush."

"Not likely," came the voice of Mr Thomas from his front row seats.

Everyone laughed, and Sharon shivered as they were all behaving normally as though it wasn't some deviant sex club.

Mrs Thomas had discarded all of her underwear and had slipped the belt up into place, then she positioned the end of the black monster dildo over the top of her hairless snatch.

She stepped out into the full spotlight to show off. Slowly she turned, showing her naked body glowing in the light, her pearls glistening and the big black dildo matching her black leather high heels quite nicely. The audience applauded, and then she moved into position behind Sharon.

Terry handed her some lubricant, which she smeared on the dildo before dropping to her knees. She grabbed the younger woman's arse cheeks and spread them apart to reveal her furry treasures to the older woman's lustful gaze. Grabbing hold of the big fake cock, she lined it up at the unprepared woman's pussy opening and then began to force her way inside.

Sharon's head snapped back in shock as she felt something begin to force its way into her poor pussy. She hadn't seen what the woman had been doing but she had guessed she was in for some kind of sexual abuse, it seemed to be the way of things here.

She squealed in pain as she felt the invader force its way deeper inside her, spreading her open wider than she'd been filled before. It seemed to go on and on before she finally felt the warm flesh of the other woman pressing up against her buttocks.

"How's that feel dear, has old Henry filled you up?" asked Mrs Thomas as she fondly gave the end of her dildo an affectionate pat.

Sharon couldn't answer, she groaned in discomfort instead.

"That's excellent dear, time to get to work then."

She pulled the dildo back out of Sharon's snatch, and began to slide it back in again. Over and over Sharon felt the dildo invade her pussy, and then retreat. Her mind was swimming in sensations, good and bad, and she didn't know how to react.

"Terry, clamps now," instructed Mrs Thomas.

Terry ran forwards, reached underneath Sharon and attached a nasty looking nipple clamp to each of her milk filled nipples.

She screeched in pain as her abused tits were now being tortured again.

"That's it dear, let it all out," sighed Mrs T in pleasure as she continued to ram in and out of the defenceless pussy.

Terry then began to tug on the clamps, causing the little teeth to bite deeper into her sensitive flesh.

"Yes, that's it dear, scream nice and loud for me," panted Mrs Thomas as she listened to the woman screech in agony.

"Had enough?" she asked.

Sharon frantically nodded. "Yes, please... I've had enough," she mumbled.

Mrs Thomas slipped the dildo out of her, and nodded to Terry who removed the clamps.

Sharon gave out a sigh of relief.

"No you haven't, nowhere near enough," hissed Mrs Thomas as she began to drive the head of the dildo into the unsuspecting, tight little arsehole quivering in front of her.

"NO!" screamed Sharon as she felt the monster begin to force its way into her back passage.

"Oh yes," whispered Mrs Thomas as she continued to force the black rubber into her victim.

When she had it in all the way, she wiggled her hips around in enjoyment.

Sharon was sobbing in pain, and Mrs Thomas loved it.

"Yes that's right, tell me all about it dear."

She bent forwards and pressed her tits into the back of the quivering woman beneath her. She wrapped her arms around Sharon's belly and hugged her, pressing her face into Sharon's back as well.

Sharon's mind was reeling, her arse was on fire, it was being torn apart and at the same time this woman was cuddling her.

In one lightning fast movement Mrs Thomas' hands shot up to the hanging tits of the abused captive and grabbed them forcefully.

She began to squeeze them roughly, squashing them, kneading them like dough.

"Aren't they nice ones Terry, any milk left?"

"I'm not sure Mrs T, have a go and see."

She grabbed hold of each nipple and began to forcefully tug down, and then squeezed the breast in a milking sort of motion.

Sharon couldn't believe they were trying to get more milk out of her, and whined in pain.

"You can do better than that cow, I want some milk," she emphasized her demand with a slap to the buttocks.

She rose back up to her knees and began to thrust in and out of the girl's arsehole.

"Please, no more," yelled Sharon in shock.

"I want some milk little bitch," grunted Mrs Thomas as she lunged forwards and gave the hanging tits another squeeze.

She thrust in a few more times and then decided to concentrate on torturing the chick's udders. She left the pretend cock deep in the abused arse of the woman, and began to feverishly squeeze and pull on the tortured tits. Eventually a few droplets of milk began to appear.

"About time you little cow!"

Mrs Thomas pulled the dildo out and slid underneath her slave to suck one nipple and then the other into her waiting mouth. Hungry for the taste of human milk, she enjoyed the small amount that Sharon managed to produce, and then she stood up theatrically running her tongue around her lips.

She shoved Sharon over onto the floor with her foot, and Sharon happily stayed in a heap on the ground where she had landed.

"Lovely Terry."

"Thank you mam."

"I think I'll be back for the weekend Terry, see that she's not milked before then. I want to drink my fill from her tasty titties."

"Very good Mrs T."

Sharon watched as the woman approached her, and squatted down alongside her, still wearing the evil looking black dildo.

Mrs Thomas grabbed Sharon's chin and pulled her head up to look into her tired eyes.

"You've got a couple of days to rest little cow, and then you're mine for as long as you please me."

"Please don't," begged Sharon.

"Don't beg dear, it belittles you. You will do as you're told, you'll take everything I have to give. You will please me any way I choose, and when I'm done you're coming back here to work in the dairy."

Sharon started to cry quietly, and lowered her face.

"Don't cry, because there is a light at the end of the tunnel."

Sharon looked up, perhaps hoping in some way that they might let her go.

"Yes, that's right. If you're really good, we'll let some of the members fuck you and we'll allow you to breed again."

This wasn't what she had been expecting, and she was shocked.

"If you're a good breeder we can have you popping out little calves regularly, and in between that you can be on the milking machine filling up bottles."

Sharon was shaking her head in horror.

"Yes, you could have a long and fruitful life here with us, at least until you're too old to breed. But I'm sure we could find some other use for you then."

Everyone in the audience laughed, and then the curtain closed and the lights came up. Another evening at the club had come to an end.

Mrs Thomas zipped up her dress as Sharon was led out of the room on all fours.

"Do we have somewhere for her child to go?"

"All taken care of Mrs T, the adoption people have been asking for more new kids, always a bit of demand for them. We'll make her sign the papers tomorrow and then little Brandon will be someone else's problem."

"Excellent work Terry, excellent work," she smiled and gracefully made her way down the stairs to leave the room.

Terry's phone rang, as he stood watching the other members slowly leaving their seats.

"Hello."

"I just called in the at the seven eleven, and I've found us a new mummy Terry. You should see the titties on this one!"

Copyright 2006 Victor Ramierez

victorramierez@hotmail.com

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