Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Hoop
Title: Incarceration Ch.17
Part: Chapter 17
Summary: Zoe and Claire milk another girl.
Keywords: FF, bd, lactation



   Helen had left Zoe and Claire to lie on the floor for another hour,
while she busied herself with whatever it was she did on her computer.  Zoe
had lay on her front for most of the time, trying to find a position that
put as little pressure as possible on the end of the butt plug.  Claire had
lain on her side with her eyes closed, breathing steadily.  She looked
tired.

   An electronic sound came from Helen's computer.  Apparently it signified
that it was time for something else, as she set it aside and knelt down
next to the girls.  She gave Claire's nipple a hard squeeze, and her eyes
snapped open as she gave a pained, muffled cry.  Her breasts had turned a
noticeable shade darker from the last hour's restriction.  Then Helen put
her knee on the small of Zoe's back, holding her down to the floor.  She
reached between her legs, and unfastened the crotch-strap of her strait
jacket.

   "Can't have it inside you forever, I suppose," she said.

   The tension around Zoe's crotch slackened.  She let out a relieved groan
as Helen extracted the butt-plug from her.  Zoe could feel her ass hole
tentatively closing shut, as if it wasn't quite sure whether it was allowed
to.  The soreness seemed to have spread from her anus all across her
pelvis. Her joints ached.  There was a tug, and Helen re-secured the
restricting garment.

   "This stays on for now, though," she explained.  "We're not finished yet
today."

   Helen left to fetch an attendant, and some equipment.  On her return, it
took a few minutes to change over Claire's restraints so that they matched
Zoe's - a white canvas strait jacket, done up so that Claire's arms were
crossed behind her back.  Then, they were herded out of the room.  Helen
walked in front as they set off, facing back towards them.

   "You get to meet one of the other girls today," she said.  "Isn't that
exciting?"

   Zoe was not excited.  Beside her, Claire looked like she might fall
asleep on her feet.  The attendant was having to guide her forward, with
one hand gripping around the back of her neck.

   "Hmph," said Helen.  "I can't say much for your stamina if you're
already tired out.  Still, this session's mainly for the benefit of number
212."

   A stairwell that Zoe hadn't seen before brought them to a new corridor,
and a new set of rooms sealed away behind heavy-looking wooden doors. 
Every so often, one of the doors would have a frosted glass window.  A pair
of attendants emerged from one of these rooms, one of them adjusting the
straps that held his mask in place, while the other thumbed a switch on his
electric baton, giving an approving nod as a spark leaped between the
prongs.

   They were escorted into a cell a little smaller than the room all four
of the girls shared.  The walls and floor were covered with the familiar,
soft padding material, but the space lacked the bathroom fixtures that were
present in their own cell.  That had never made sense to Zoe - what was the
point in padding all the surfaces when there was a very hard, stainless
steel toilet in one corner?

   In the middle of the room, a girl was sitting in a metal chair.  Her
head was drooping forward, and a long strand of drool was hanging down from
her mouth where a big, yellow ball gag was strapped firmly in place.  She
was blindfolded with a sleep mask.  She had auburn hair, which had been
tied up into pigtails, probably on Helen's whim.

   Her ankles and thighs were tightly bound to the chair with thick leather
straps, and she was held back with more of them looping under her armpits
and over her shoulders.  Her arms were bound up in a lighter version of
Zoe's strait jacket: the sleeves were still there, but the front was open,
leaving her breasts exposed.  A single fabric strap lead down between them,
to where the garment terminated in a thick band around her midriff.  Below
that she was nude, with a small, neat triangle of pubic hair on her crotch.

   The seat of the chair, a single piece of slightly curved metal, was
perforated with small holes.  There was a plastic bucket beneath it.

   "Long-term isolation always has logistical problems like this," Helen
sighed.  She slid the bucket out from beneath the chair, and there was a
sloshing sound.  She put it out of the way, in the corner.

   "I suppose we could have catheterised her," Helen mused.

   Zoe shivered.

   The girl had raised her head now, and was looking around blindly.

   "Anyway," said Helen, "this is number 212."

   She pulled the blindfold from the girl's eyes.  She squinted, gradually
opening her eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness.  Even when she
had fully recovered, her eyelids were still drooping a little.  Helen
removed the gag from the girl's mouth, and she allowed the rest of the
saliva that had built up to drip onto the floor, before licking her lips.
She closed her mouth, wincing with the discomfort.

   "Did you enjoy your solitude, 212?" said Helen.

   "Yes, mistress."

   "212 is quite a lot further along in the conditioning program than you
are," said Helen.  "How long has it been?" she said, putting her hand on
the back of the girl's own.

   "I...  I don't know, mistress."

   "That's right," said Helen.  "It gets hard to keep track of the time
after a certain point, doesn't it?"

   "Yes, mistress."

   "Do you know how long it's been since your injections?  Are your boobs
sore?" At the second question, Helen cupped one of the girl's breasts in
her hand, and gave it a squeeze.

   "No, mistress.  They are sore, mistress."

   Helen squeezed again, and the girl made a stifled "aah" sound, clenching
her teeth.

   "I think 314 and 271 here will be able to help."

   "Thank you, mistress."

   Helen and the attendant freed the girl from the myriad straps holding
her to the chair.  The attendant removed it to one side, while Helen helped
212 from her sitting position into a kneel, with her legs folded beneath
her.  She seemed to have trouble staying upright.  Helen gave her a light
slap across the face.

   "You will remain kneeling," she said, "and you will remain awake.  If
you behave well for the rest of this session, I might even let you sleep in
a bed tonight."

   "Th...  thank you, mistress."

   212 made a visible effort to rouse herself, shaking her head and
blinking hard.  She knelt upright, head tilted back as she looked at
nothing in particular on the ceiling.

   Zoe was ungagged, and Claire, too, was freed of the wad of fabric in her
mouth.  After the sock had been removed she spat a little, grimacing as she
did so.  Then both girls were firmly encouraged down onto the floor by the
attendant, until they were kneeling in front of 212.  Helen had sat down
behind the girl, resting her chin on 212's shoulder while she reached
around to massage her breasts.

   "What do you think of 212's boobs, 314?" said Helen.  "Aren't they
nice?"

   Claire did nothing for a few seconds, and then she shrugged.

   "Come on, we're all girls here," said Helen.  "You don't need to be
embarrassed.  They're a nice size, right?  Generous, but not too large,
wouldn't you say?"

   Claire still didn't seem to be sure what kind of answer Helen was trying
to coax from her.  "I...  I guess," she said.

   "Have a feel," said Helen.

   "But my arms are-"

   "Use your mouth," she said.  The lips are some of the most sensitive
parts of the human body, you know.  You too," she said to Zoe.

   Zoe shuffled a little closer to the girl, so that she wouldn't
overbalance when she leaned forward.  She brushed her lips against the top
of the girl's breast, and then withdrew.

   "Wonderful," she said, her voice flat.

   The other side, Claire lingered a moment longer before removing her
mouth from the girl's chest.

   "Why don't you give them a little suck?" said Helen.  The corners of her
mouth were twitching, like she was trying to control the urge to grin.  "Go
on, do it."

   Zoe rolled her eyes as she returned to kiss the girl's nipple, and this
time she heard 212 let out a shivering sigh.  Zoe squeaked as Helen pushed
against the back of her head, forcing her to bury her face against the
girl's tit.

   "More effort!" she said.

   It would be easier to comply, as always.  Zoe was only thinking of the
prospect that the whole encounter might end a little sooner, and then maybe
she'd be allowed to rest.  She pressed her lips around the girl's areola,
and sucked gently.  Helen ordered her to be more attentive, and she bit
down softly, rubbing her tongue against the girl's nipple.

   Zoe jerked backwards as she felt a squirt of something warm enter her
mouth.  The taste was creamy and sweet, and she spluttered as she spat out
a mouthful of milky liquid onto the floor.  Claire had also encountered the
same surprise.  A trail of white dribble was running down her chin.  Zoe
looked at Helen in disbelief.

   "How..."

   "Good, isn't it?" said Helen.  "It turns out that we can induce
lactation in any girl with the right mixture of hormones.  Actually, your
work was instrumental in the final stages."

   "But what...  why?  Why the hell would you do this?"

   "Science isn't about 'why'," said Helen, "it's about 'why not?'.  I
think that was a quote from somewhere.  I like it," she said.  "It's in the
spirit of what we do here."

   She tweaked 212's nipple, and brought forth another squirt of milk while
the girl gave a shuddering sigh.  She sounded relieved.

   "Poor 212 hasn't been milked in three days," said Helen.  "She must be
aching to offload some of it.  Won't you help her?"

   "But..."

   "I'm sure you could learn to like the taste," said Helen.

   She fetched the bucket from where she had placed it in the room's
corner. "Let me put it another way," she said.  "Either you milk 212, or
you'll be drinking the contents of this bucket through a funnel.  I'll let
you decide which one you'd rather do."

   She swilled the bucket's contents around to illustrate her point.  Zoe
decided she'd rather be forced to drink something that was actually
intended for consumption, and wearily returned her mouth to 212's nipple.
With the first jets of milk having issued forth, it was now flowing more
freely, and every time Zoe pursed her lips against the girl's breast she
received another quarter-mouthful of the lukewarm fluid.  At first she
tried to spit it out, but the amount would have been too obvious.  She
grudgingly began to swallow.

   Claire joined in alongside her.  There were soft suckling noises as the
pair of them attended to 212's long-overdue milking.  She felt the girl's
chest shiver once or twice as she groaned quietly.  After a time, those
tremors seemed to become more frequent, and Zoe saw that Helen's hand,
covered in a white latex glove, was between the girl's legs now.  Her
fingers were spread over her pussy while one of them traced its way up and
down, occasionally slipping inside her.  212's groans became less
restrained.  Helen's fingers were soon wet and glistening.

   Zoe didn't know too much about the process of human milk formation.  Was
it like a reservoir that she and Claire would eventually deplete?  What if
she just carried on producing more of it?  She figured that the faster she
swallowed the stuff down, the sooner it would be over, and began to suck
for longer each time, eventually finding that the milk came in regular
pulses to which she could match the timing of her suckling.  She wasn't
enjoying the taste, but neither was it offensively bad.  It just tasted
unusual.  The warmth was the most unpleasant aspect of it.  She found
herself thinking back to the cereal they had been brought, and how that
milk had tasted weird as well.

   Zoe had to pause at one point, stifling a belch.  It was becoming more
difficult to swallow any more of the sweet, creamy liquid.  She looked up
and saw that 212 seemed to have lost herself in the sensations of three
other girls attending to her body: her eyes were closed, lip curled under
her teeth as she let out quiet sighs.  She actually seemed to be enjoying
it.  She shuffled her legs together and clenched her thighs around Helen's
hand, which was still working at her cunt.  Meanwhile, Claire was dutifully
milking the girl's other breast, swallowing down mouthful after mouthful.

   In time, 212's moans became uneasier, and more frustrated.  To Zoe's
relief, she found that less and less milk was emerging from the girl's
teat. Surely they'd have to stop soon.  Indeed, a couple of minutes later,
Helen instructed them both to cease, and they withdrew to leave 212 in
Helen's care, who put one arm across the girl's chest while she continued
to finger her.  212's breasts had reddened slightly; her nipples were pert
and sore-looking.  She actually leaned back against Helen while the manual
stimulation continued, and she climaxed after a few more minutes of Helen's
skilful hand working at her pussy, writhing and letting out a deep sigh.  A
drowsy grin spread across her face.

   "212's learned not to resist," said Helen.  "See how much better it is
for her?  She even enjoys it.  Perhaps you should learn from her example."

   Claire looked over at Zoe uneasily.  Zoe wondered whether the program of
treatments would be the same for them, and whether she would find herself
being made to lactate for Helen's amusement.  Helen held 212 against her
body for a little longer, tousling her hair around a gloved finger, and
then let her lie back on the floor while she stood up and discarded her
gloves.

   "Well, we've done what you came here to do," said Helen.  She instructed
the attendant to take Claire away, and she lead 212 from the room herself,
after blindfolding her again.  The girl seemed too compliant, Zoe thought.
She was left alone for a while, and had another try at wriggling loose from
her strait jacket.  As she expected, nothing would even budge a little bit.
Her shoulders were aching from being pulled back for so long.

   Eventually, Helen returned.

   "I'm not quite done with you yet, 271."

   "What the hell?"

   So far today, Zoe had endured an enema, a butt plug, and Helen's fingers
up her ass, along with countless hours gagged and restrained in a strait
jacket.  She was feeling more than a little victimised.

   "You let Claire go back!" she protested.  "And the other two!"

   "We can't finish now, though," said Helen.  "Not with your butt hole all
nicely prepared and ready for me.  I've got a few more things planned for
you next."

   She glanced over her computer screen, and frowned.  "Although, luckily
for you," she said, "there are some things I really should take care of
first.  So you'll get a brief respite."

   Helen spoke to the attendant.  "Watch over her here," she said.  "Bring
her to 3A in, oh, let's say an hour.  Use any of the other restraint
equipment if she gets unruly."

   "Yes, Miss Stanford."

   "I'll see you later," said Helen.  She walked out, leaving Zoe sitting
on the floor.  The attendant stood by the door, with his arms folded.

   Zoe would have liked to be able to hug her knees against her chest, but
she was denied even that small comfort.  She lay down on her side
dejectedly.  Her ass hole was already tingling at the thought of what else
Helen might decide to do to it.