Previous chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven
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Tayla awoke in her basket in the laundry to the feeling of discomfort in her tits.
She lay there with her boobs hurting, feeling confused. There was still an instinct, somewhere in her, to touch her tits and explore the feeling, but the thought flashed unpleasant warning signs in her brain. She had been well-conditioned by now, and found it completely impossible to touch her own tits or cunt for any reason.
She looked down and saw a little droplet of milk gleaming on her nipple. Her tits were full, she realised. They were swollen with lactation, and needed to be milked.
She got up and went to the kitchen. Bessie was there, preparing breakfast.
“Oh, the little slut is up, is she?” said Bessie archly. “Did you have fun fucking your daddy last night?”
Tayla blushed. Several responses went through her mind – that the Sheriff wasn’t her father, whatever Bessie might say; that it had been Bessie who told her to cocktease him; that Tayla was a prisoner her, and everything that had happened to her was rape.
But she knew that all of these answers would only get her in trouble.
And besides, the best answer was the truth.
“Yes,” she said, blushing.
Bessie nodded. “Every slut thinks she won’t fuck her daddy, until she wants something from him. And your face tells me you want something right now, Snowball.”
Tayla blushed even deeper. “I, uh… can I go on the milking machine?”
Bessie sized up Tayla’s tits. “Oh, are your udders a little sore, are they?” she asked. “In need of some attention?”
Tayla nodded, her face red.
“Moo,” said Bessie.
Tayla didn’t understand. “What?”
“Moo,” repeated Bessie. “Like a cow. That’s how bitches get milked in Modwina. You moo until you get a man’s attention.”
“Can’t I just use the machine?” asked Tayla, awkwardly.
Bessie slapped her. “Don’t talk back to me, Snowball,” she said. “You can stand there with your tits leaking and hurting, or you can moo for help. It’s up to you.
Tayla stood there for a moment, and then, embarrassed, made a quite “moo”.
Bessie swatted at me. “No point mooing at me,” she said. “I’m not going to hand-milk you. Go get the attention of one of the men.”
Tayla felt like this was a new low for her – and yet, her breasts hurt, and they would keep hurting, and there was nothing else she could do about it. She shuffled up the corridor and stood outside the Sheriff’s room.
“Mooo,” she said. And then, getting no response, she tried again, louder, and more like the lowing of an actual cow. “Mooooooo.”
Still no response.
“Moooo,” she wailed again “Moooooo.”
And then she jumped, as she felt a hand on her naked ass. It wasn’t the Sheriff, but rather his son Edward, standing behind her.
“I see you’re learning your place, Snowball,” he said. “Do you need a milking, do you?”
“Yes, please,” said Tayla, looking down.
To her surprise, Edward slapped her across the face.
“When your tits are full, you’re a cow,” he told her. “I don’t want to hear human words out of a cow’s mouth, understand? If you have something to say, you can say it after you’re milked.”
He seemed to expect an answer.
“Moo,” said Tayla, reluctantly.
“Good cow,” said Edward. He grabbed one of her breasts, and squeezed hard enough to make Tayla squeal with pain. Milk squirted from her nipple, hitting the wall and dripping to the floor.
“Yep, your udders need milking all right,” he said. “Lick that mess up, and then crawl to the front door.”
Tayla reluctantly crouched, and licked her own milk from the wall and the floor, as though she were an animal. Then she crawled on all fours to the front door.
Edward had the door open, and a metal bucket in his hand. “Out you go, Snowball,” he said.
Tayla cringed. Her control collar would shock her if she went too far from the house.
Edward seemed to realise this. “You’re not going past the invisible fence, Snowball,” he told her. “Just as far as the front yard. You don’t think I’m going to milk you inside, do you? You’ll make a mess…”
Reluctantly, Tayla crawled out onto the front lawn, blinking in the bright sunlight. There would have been a time in her life where it would have been unthinkable to crawl into her front yard on all fours like an animal, stark naked, in full view of anyone going by, but Tayla was slowly beginning to accept that these were things that would happen to her, and there was nothing she could do about them.
Edward placed the bucket he was holding in the centre of the yard, and then grabbed a kind of flatbed wheeled trolley from the edge of the garden and wheeled it over to sit next to the bucket. He then lifted an old upended milk crate from near the front wall of the house, placed it near the trolley, and sat on it.
“Up you get, Snowball,” he said, gesturing to the trolley.
Awkwardly, Tayla climbed onto the trolley, still on all fours. It was high enough that, in Edward’s seated position, her back was now level with the top of Edward’s head. She was facing the street, with her nude cunt pointing lewdly at the house. Her milk-laden udders hung down beneath her.
Edward took the bucket and placed it on the trolley, beneath her tits.
“Some folks prefer a standing frame for milking their breeders,” he said, “but father always thought mother learned her place better on all fours.”
He slapped her ass, making her squeak. “Moo for me, Snowball,” he commanded. “Moo nice and loud, so the neighbours can hear.”
“Moo,” said Tayla, uncertainty in her voice.
Edward sighed, and used his hands to push her legs apart a little. He caressed her naked pussy – and then grabbed the whole of her pussy mound between his thumb and figures, squeezing it painfully.
“That’s not nearly loud enough, Snowball,” he said. “Louder, so they can hear you. Or else I’ll take my shoe to your udders and cunt, and we’ll see how loud you are then.”
“Moooo!” said Tayla – louder, but still not loud enough.
Edward let go of her cunt, and then worked one finger into her fuckhole. Tayla blushed, because she knew it was wet. Wet enough to welcome the violation of his finger. What was wrong with her?
“Louder, Snowball,” Edward insisted, slowly pumping his finger in and out of her cunt.
“Moooo! MOOOOO!” Tayla cried.
“Good bitch,” said Edward. “Keep mooing until people come to watch.” And he kept fucking her pussy with his finger. Tayla felt herself becoming flushed. Her tits still ached with their burden of milk, and her nipples were hardening.
“Mooooo,” she said. “Mooooo.”
“Did you enjoy fucking my father last night?” Edward whispered. “Did you call him ‘daddy’? Is that what you are, Snowball? A father fucking whore?”
Tayla burned with humiliation. She wanted to respond, but she knew it was a trap, that Edward would punish her if she used human words.
“Mooo,” she lowed.
“If he’s your father, then I guess that makes me your brother, Snowball,” said Edward. “Do you want to fuck your brother too? Do you enjoy eating your meals from your brother’s cock? I bet you do.”
Tayla didn’t have a real brother, but if she did she certainly wouldn’t want to fuck him. But all she could say was “moo”.
People were gathering now. The neighbours on the left side of the house – a couple in their fifties – had emerged from their front door, and were heading towards the fence to see the commotion in the yard.
“Hello, Mr Patterson,” said Edward, waving to the man. “How are you and the cunt today?”
“I’m doing fine,” laughed the man, “but Buttercup’s tits are a bit sore. She messed up the dinner last night and I had to give her udders a firm caning to help her learn.”
Edward laughed in response. “You did say she was a dumb slut when you married her!” he said.
“Yes,” admitted Mr Patterson, “but her cunt’s still as tight as the day I first fucked her, despite two babies, so I can’t say I have regrets.”
A couple who were jogging by in exercise clothes now stopped to watch. The woman – a pretty brunette – was topless, and Tayla could see the curve of a baby bump on her stomach. Her large tits were pierced, and the man was leading her on a chain pet leash connected to her nipple piercings. This woman at least still looked humiliated by her situation, and Tayla felt a moment of kinship with her.
“Morning, Pete!” said Edward. “Who’s the new cow?”
“Oh, this?” said the jogger. “She’s the sister of my wife, Daisy. Her birth certificate says Kate, but the wife and I agree she’s more of a Milky-Bitch. She came to visit my wife because she was worried about her – she was a feminist, you know, and scared of the ‘patriarchy’ – but while she was here she was a bit of a cockteasing cunt, and naturally I had to put a baby in her, and then Modwina laws meant she couldn’t go home until she birthed it. We’ve been keeping her in the basement while she learned obedience, but recently we’ve decided she’s ready to go walkies.”
“She’s a pretty one,” said Edward. “Any chance I can come round and take a turn with her?”
“Take all the turns you want,” laughed Pete. “I’m already married, and watching Daisy teach her sister to be an obedient breeder has made me fall in love with Daisy all over again.” He gestured at Tayla. “I see you’ve got a new one too.”
“An out-of-towner,” said Edward. “A hot little bitch with an incest fetish. She seduced her friend and then tried to run away to get his baby aborted. Luckily we caught her here in Modwina. My father’s taken responsibility for training her up.”
“Mind if we watch her milking?” asked Pete.
“Be my guest,” said Edward. Then, in a lower voice, speaking to Tayla, he said, “Ready to be a good little cow, Snowball?”
Tayla knew how to reply. “Mooo,” she said, blushing intensely at doing this in front of an audience.
Edward gripped her left teat in one expert fist, and squeezed. It was a special kind of squeeze, stimulating her milk glands, pushing the milk down towards her nipple, and it produced a visible squirt of milk into the bucket.
But also it was a cruel squeeze. It *hurt*. It was *intended* to hurt. And Tayla squealed in pain.
“Shush, Snowball,” said Edward. He used his free hand to fingerfuck her pussy a little more, making her moan, and then he grabbed her right tit and squeezed that too.
Squirt. Pain. “MOOOOO!”
“This isn’t something that’s happening to you, Snowball,” said Edward quietly. “This is your *life*. This is what you exist for. Everything in your life was leading you here, to be a good little cow, to be an obedient breeder, being painfully milked in public like the animal you are. This is the reality that women need to understand.”
He squeezed her left tit again, and then fingerfucked her pussy a little more.
“The pain in your tits isn’t an aberration that will go away,” Edward said. “It’s the natural state of a cow’s udders. It’s when they *don’t* hurt that something is wrong, and my father and I will do everything we can to fix that for you. Your tits evolved to be sensitive specifically so that I could do this to you. This is your evolutionary purpose.”
He crushed her right tit, producing another squirt, and laughed.
Tayla was so confused. She was humiliated, degraded, and in pain. And yet she was aroused, horny, responding eagerly to Edward’s fingers in her cunt. Her pussy was so wet, and her tits were so painful, that it was impossible to think about anything except those two parts of her body, as if her cunt and her tits were the whole of her existence. And she supposed that Edward thought that they probably were.
The audience were watching, and commenting.
“She’s a pretty little slut,” Mr Patterson was saying. “Do you think her cunt would taste good to lick, Buttercup?”
“Yes, sir,” said his wife quietly.
And Pete the jogger was pointing out Tayla’s arousal to his topless captive.
“Look how wet she’s getting from this treatment, Milky-Bitch,” he was saying. “Remember how you thought that women didn’t need the guidance of men? How can you look at this slut and possibly think that she’s anything but an animal?”
“I’m sorry, sir, for being a dumb slut,” said the girl who had once been called Kate, her face flushed, her voice obedient but resentful. “You should beat my udders when I get home to teach me.”
Edward continued his rhythm, alternating cruel, agonising squeezes of her tits with casual attention to her pussy. With each squeeze, more milk squirted into the bucket. With each fingerfucking, Tayla felt an orgasm growing closer.
And then, suddenly, the milk stopped squirting. She was dry.
Edward squeezed her a couple more times to be sure, and then took his hands off his body. Tayla couldn’t help but groan with frustration. She had been so close to cumming.
“Oh, what’s that, Snowball?” asked Edward. “Do you want your cunt violated some more?”
She couldn’t help herself. In a small voice, she said, “Mooo.”
“Your udders are empty now, Snowball,” said Edward. “You can use human words. Is there something you want?”
She couldn’t believe she was going to say this – and in front of strangers, to boot. But her brain was so confused and her body was so tense.
“Please make me cum, sir,” she whispered.
“Why should I do that for you, Snowball?” said Edward. “Look at this bucket. Barely 30 millilitres of fluid. As a milker, you’re a bit of a disappointment. If you want to cum, you’d better make a good argument.”
Tayla tried to think of what Edward wanted from her. He wanted her to accept her place. He wanted her to make more milk. And he wanted to hurt her. He enjoyed hurting her.
She knew what to say.
“Please sir,” she said, “I want to be a better milker. Can you take me inside and beat my tits with your shoe, so that I learn to make more milk?”
There was laughter from the male members of the audience.
“Good girl,” said Edward. “All right, let’s take you and your milk inside, and see what we can teach you.”
And sure enough, after Edward had helped her off the trolley, and put the trolley and milk crate away, and said goodbye to the neighbours who were watching, he led her inside and had her place her tits up on the wooden table.
And with one hand he reached down to finger her pussy, and with the other he used his shoe to beat her tits.
And the pain was agonising, but Tayla still found herself shaking, and shuddering, and cumming…
… even as she realised that this wasn’t a one-off scenario, and that she could expect to be milked this way every day going forward.
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Who’s this Taylor bitch all of a sudden?
A gift from the spellchecker, apparently. Fixed now.