It's dark and your jaw aches from the ball gag. The saliva drips down your chin. You are in the milking stand on all fours but to your deep frustration you have not yet been attended to. Your breasts are heavy and hang from your chest. Probably they are engorged by now, although beads of milk drip occasionally from your nipples. Finally there is some noise, footsteps entering the room.
"Here she is."
"Nice."
"Watch this."
Are there two of them? As that thought enters your mind
-- thwack --
you cringe. The paddle smarts on your bottom. You havene't been spanked in a long time.
-- thwack --
-- thwack --
"It's amazing what this hucow can take."
There is some laughing at first but the paddling continues steadily. Until --
"Here you give it a go."
The blows are now solid and rattle your bones. Slower, more deliberate. This guy is different. You moan and absorb the force with each one, as your bottom burns.
"Man I think I need a rest." The new guys voice is deep, strong, and simple. It's like he's been digging a hole in the yard and needs a break.
"Well you did some fine work. Do you see how wet she got? Watch this." Wet? You don't know what the hell they are talking about until you feel your master's hands on your back. He presses the small of your back down, and then grabs your pussy firmly, thumn on the inside over the g-spot, first finger over the clit, and squeezes hard. Waves of queasiness ripple through your body. He pulls and twists and you moan. He's now rubbing steadily and you arch your back, not sure you can handle the intensity.
Finally he begins to squeeze and milk your pussy, pulling it steadily up and down. You feel the urge, the trembling, and then the release as liquid flows down your leg in steady squirts. Your legs and thngs tremble now and you've completely forgot the aching swolling engorged breasts that troubled you before.
"She's read to go. But don't be too rough. I want her pregnant -- not broken." With that your master leaves the room, you hear the unbuckling of a belt, and then feel new hands on your back. Big, rough, grasping firmly. HIs cock slides into your hole and fills it fully, and begins a steady rhythm. Each press of the hips on your sore thighs coincides with his cock hitting your cervix.
Truly, it's boring. It's just a standard fuck. In and out. Your breasts aching more than ever. And he smells of some foreign cologne. And then he starts talking:
"You fucking little hucow hore. Fucking little whore."
It's a low husky voice much different than the matter of fact guy of a few minutes ago.
"You horny little fertile hucow whore."
He grabs the back of your hair and pulls your head back, arching your back, and his cock now rubs on your gspot.
Smack. He hit your ass with his big rough hand.
"Ughhh." You cannot catch your breath as he starts to come, slamming his cock deep into you. Somewhere deep inside you want to have this man's baby. "Oh godd." he groans and finishes up.
A few minutes later your master returns. The two men pull you from the milking stand and place you in a different contraption. YOu now lie at about 30 degree angle in the air, head lower than ass, gag removed, facing down, seeing only your hair hanging around the edges of the blindfold.
Your master steps up, each breast firmly in hand, and begins to squeeze, first one udder and then the other. They are so sore, and eager for release, but nothng comes.
"Looks like she needs more," he says. Give her some head. Back to his matter of fact self, the new guy steps up and begins to lick. You feel his tongue over your clit, the blood filling your brain, an as the pleasure starts to rise the milk steadily flows. For the next twenty minutes you could be in outer space, or another dimension, as steady little tremors flow through your loins, and steady squirts of milk leave your breasts.
When it's all over the two men pick up the glasses your milk has been filling.
"here's to a nice day milking the hucow."
They laugh and clink glasses. You wonder how much they have to drink as you feel contractions in your nipples and breasts continuing the milking rhythmo n their own. The two men laugh, talk some more, and finally leave the room. You figure they will return soon, so you don't say anything, but they don't. It's pointless to yell. Instead, you just hang there, in the air, with a stranger's cum working it's way deep into your belly, your milk occasionally dripping to the floor from your breasts, your head buzzing with the extra blood throbbing in your ears. What have you become? The thought echoes somewhere in the back of your mind. But we all know the answer.
You are a hucow.