It`s a frosty morning and dawn is just throwing sunlight over the
barn roof as we get out of the car. He comes out to meet us and
you stand and exchange pleasantries in the middle of the yard
whilst I prod the iced mud with a crurious boot toe.


I look through the shed door...but its dark in there, I can just
make out the slow moving shapes of the cows being led to milking
through the door at the far end.


And once they are settled we enter the milking shed....the dim
light robs us all of sight for a few seconds, leaving us all with
the smell of straw, warm cows and fresh shit ; the sound of
mastication and the occassion low of a heifer needing to be
milked.


As my eyes adjust I watch the men travel the length of the shed
hooking the pumps to engorged udders and then begin to hear the
steady pump and swish of milk beginning to flow.



I start as you say my name...I was drifting away with the
hypnotic pulse of the milking machine but now see you beckon
further into the shed and out of the far door.


He leads us to another shed. It looks newer and the metal door
slides easily and smoothly on its runner as he opens it. Inside
he intructs us to take off our boots and leads us through another
door into a larger lighter room. It must be thirty feet long, the
tiles walls shine in the harsh lights as he switches them on...
the floor is also tiled but has a drainage channel down the
middle. There are machines..against the far wall and a plethora
of stainless steel runners accross the ceiling that seem to be
there to help move around transparant tubes. Its a medically
clean milking parlour...a smaller version than that which we
walked through before. Giving further evidence of its
medicalisation is the fact that both side walls have a mirrored
strip running the length of the room.


At this point he asks if you will leave me with him for
preparation whilst you yourself are welcome to go back up to the
house and help yourself to the breakfast buffet. You give me one
of your looks that means `don`t make a fuss` and immediately turn
and leave.


I watch you go and then turn back to look at him.


He smiles, and leads the way.


Another door is opened....I walk through and the door shuts.


Its a holding cage. I can turn around sideways and stretch my
arms to touch the doors at either end and to one side through the
wire mesh is a man...he could be one of the men from the cow
shed...he could be someone differnt...but the overall look of the
boots and boiler suit is the same.


"strip!"


I turn to look at him but don`t get a second chance as he pokes a
stick between the wires and i receive a bolt of electricity that
makes me immediately start peeling off my coat and sweater... to
one side there is a gap in the wire and chute that I presume I
should put my clothes in.


Within a minute I am naked and I stand hunched waiting for the
door to re-open but he hasn`t finished his job yet. He points a
hose through the wire and I`ve doused with cold water from head
to foot and then he gestures the far door is unlocked.


So I go through.


There are perhaps two dozen naked women in the new pen, milling
round, strangely silent. There is hardly any reaction to my
entrance; perhaps a couple of them raise eyes semi-curiously but
then soon return to their aimless movement. This pen is round,
the walls solid white
the floor metal with a single drainage point in the middle. Just
behind the drain is a raised area..perhaps two feet high and the
same wide.


A noise above makes me lift my own eyes and above our heads is a
walkway that entirely circles the pen... the walkway is now
filling with men. They filter in and around the walkway chatting
and laughing, some lean on the rail and study the girls until a
voice asks for silence.


"first lot"


and suddenly the man with the electric prod is there again and
the girls cluster further away from him. He steps forward quickly
and grasps a girl from the edge of the herd and pushes her
towards the podium. Once up there he takes a marker from his
pocket and writes a large black `1` and her flank and the swift
bidding begins. Its short and sweet and ends in the mid
teens...there are plenty of lots to go. I wonder what the bidding
is for...it can`t be for sex...or ownership...it wouldn`t be
financially feasible.


I`m deep in thought and therefore easily singled out from the
herd. Still wet I`m pushed towards the podium and have absolutely
no intention of giving the man a reason to use the electric prod
on wet skin so leap onto it readily.


I look up to the walkway to see if you are there, and you are,
engrossed in conversation and paying me no heed at all.


"Number 2, fresh meat" says the voice "this one isn`t in milk yet
and so we`re looking for bids for extra hand milking and
stimulation".


This time the bidding is more enthusiastic, in fact incredibley
enthusiastic and by the time it has reached several hundred I
notice you become aware of it being your lot and you say
something to the man you were in conversation with. He nods and
joins the bidding.


By the time the auction is over I`m nestled in with the herd,
partly for warmth but also so as not to stand out. A couple of
times I`ve tried to talk to the other girls but they just turn
away and refuse to engage in any way. As the herd starts to file
out I find out why as the man with the prod sections me off from
the rest and pins me against the wall. He quickly and efficiently
sticks a ball gag in my mouth and tightens the strap tightly
bringing instant pain and cramp in my jaw.


We are herded back to the milking parlour and the rest of the
girls silently walk to their accustomed places, i swiftly look
around, aware of the prod and move to an empty space and stand
like the others facing the wall, waiting.


The men move up and down the room, attaching pumping cups to
breasts and it is only now I notice that most of the herd have
very pendulous breasts and their nipples are extremely elongated.
As more equipment is attached the noise begins... not
lowing...not mooing...but a low moan of expectant pleasure. I
turn to look at the girl next to me who han`t yet been attached
and she is swinging slowly from foot to foot, her eyes half
closed and her breasts are already starting to drip milk.


Its my turn.... a hand on the back of my neck encourages me to
lean forwards slightly and each breast is guided to the rim of a
milking cup. The cups they are using on me are obviously for
first time milkers as they are wider almost like
teacups...whereas the girl beside me is now being fitted with
cups that are far more like giant test tubes.... her hugely
lengthened nipples are sucked in followed by much of her breast..
deformed from breasts to teets in an instant of suction and the
milk immediately spurts forth into the pipes.


My own fitting is somewhat more laborious, it takes time and slow
gentle suction to get most of my breasts into the cups and I moan
in both pain and pleasure as the man turns the suction to a
regular pumping pattern to stimulate my ducts to maximum effect.


The whole herd is now attached and the steady rhythm of the pumps
is trancelike.. that and the low moans of contentment that rise
and fall in time with the suction. I can see most of the room in
the mirror in front of me and can see the faces of the girls
softened with pleasure.


My own experience isn`t so blissful as the suction has no release
for me and I start to shift my weight from foot to foot and
fidget. A man appears by my side to check the suction levels and
cup positions but they are fine. He tries to calm me by softly
talking and as he talks he rubs gently between my legs until his
hand becomes slick with cunt juice. His thumb slides into my cunt
and for a few minutes he slides it in and out, his palm pushed
against my clit, moving in time with the thrum of the pumps.


But its still uncomfortable, so he signals down the line and my
pump is disconnected from the system and the cups removed. My
breasts feel harder and ache, the nipples feel so sensitive that
just the flow of air in the room brings them erect again.


I`m led from the room, back to the entrance foyer and then
through another door and into....into a long gallery in which men
are seated on the left. I recognise some of them from the auction
pen, but my eyes are drawn to you through the throng and then
even more to the window that runs the length of the room. It
gives a perfect view to the milking parlour...the other side of
the mirror.


This is a viewing gallery, and some are clearly more voyeur than
mere viewer as I see several men cocks in hand, leisurely wanking
in time to the milk gushing the other side of the glass.


And then I am by your side...with you is the man who you were in
conversation with earlier...and clearly he is also the person who
won my lot.


Before you is a low table on which you instruct me to present on
all fours. My breasts ache again as they dangle under me and with
head down I can no longer stop my saliva from dribbling from
around the gag in my mouth. Even worse is when you point out to
him that my cunt is also dripping with the pleasure and
humiliation of display. He sits forward on his chair and rubs his
hands together like an elderly doctor....he probably is an
elderly doctor. He`s a large man with a shock of white hair and a
clipped white moustache, his hands when he cups my udders are
soft and cool and I moan from behind the gag. He starts to milk
me whilst you talk, softly stroking the length of each udder
upwards and then squeezing down to the teet, each downward stroke
bringing the teet to its maximum stretch. His head leans against
my side and the rhythm becomes soporific...your conversation
comes and goes as I almost drift in and out of a semi sleep
state.


He stops when the pumps are turned off in the milking parlour.
Now the men in the room sit up in expectation as the herd leave
the room.
But soon I realise why as each girl now enters the room carrying
a glass in both hands. Each girl is directed to the winner of her
lot and each girl goes silently to kneel before their milk owner
and proffer their glass of milk.


Some men down the glass in one..others sip... some go through the
motions of hand milking as they drink from the glass. I watch
entranced until my owner leans close to my ear.


`i must have something to make up for no milk`


I nod and he sits back in the chair, he opens his flies and
manouvres his erection out of his trousers and then pats his lap.
I stand slowly and climb astride his lap, one knee squeezed
either side of him and sink willingly and happily onto his cock.
I hold the back of the chair behind his shoulders and begin to
fuck him as he lifts first one tit and then the other to his
mouth suckling hard....as he suckles I feel the familiar tingle
of pre milk let down...a buzz that runs through each breast and
as i feel it he suckles harder.


And you, my love, my Master, unable to be left out for long,
stand and move behind the chair. You remove the gag... my mouth
is awash with saliva and my jaw cramped. I couldn`t shut my mouth
if i tried and so you thrust your cock into my throat...spit
dribbles from my mouth onto your balls as you fuck me...I fuck
him.... he suckles me.... and my milk flows.