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.