Milking Solutions Pt 04

The intern, Lexi, wore high heels, leather pants and a t-shirt as she walked down the long white corridor of the milking compound. This was her first day working at Milking Solutions, Inc., and she was ready to be the best dominatrix ever.

Vanessa, the Director of Pleasure and Obedience, was treating her to the tour of the underground portion of their compound. Lexi had signed the contracts, the NDAs, and knew full well that she was walking into a black site where men were held captive and milked against their will. And that feeling excited her.

Despite her eagerness, Lexi noticed Vanessa seemed to be holding something back. She didn't care much for the way Vanessa would run her eyes up and down her legs when she thought she wasn't looking, but hell, this was a job at Milking Solutions. Even so, Vanessa had taken the serum already, a special drug devised by Amanda Williams that molded female bodies into the purest incarnations of their sex. Vanessa was eight feet tall, with wide hips and enormous breasts that seemed ludicrously inappropriate in her business attire.

Lexi knew she would have to take the serum eventually, as part of her induction into Milking Solutions as an apprentice domme. But thinking about the way Vanessa looked at her, she didn't feel so eager anymore. In fact, it made her rather embarrassed. Still. If you looked like that, Lexi guessed you'd feel pretty hot about anyone.

Lexi closed her eyes, banishing those thoughts from her head efficiently. Having a doctorates' in male psychology from Amanda Williams's private university had trained her to always focus on the task at hand.

And, oh my, she was loving it.

In each room was a new kind of sexual torture these genetically engineered dominatrixes performed on their prisoners. In one, a brunette with flowing hair had a naked man pinned against the wall, their hips jutting forward in sync as she pegged him with an aphrodasiac-smeared strap-on. Her hands roamed all over his unprotected sides, causing him to shudder and shiver in ticklish horror as she forced medication into him. When he tried to scream, the brunette's hands wrapped around his face and throat and pulled him back. "Shut up," she said, a smug grin showing on her face as his wide eyes darted wildly from side to side. "You don't want me to bring out the riding crop now, do you?"

The man froze, then shook his head with a whimper.

"That's what I thought," the brunette said haughtily, continuing to ram her hips against his with a force that literally lifted him from the floor.

In another room, a man was strapped down in a chair, his cock and balls protruding from a thick wooden cross placed between his legs. His hands were chained uselessly to each side of the cross, rendering him immobile in his humiliating restraints. Two senior masturbatrixes--one of them a big-breasted, raven-haired goddess with an ass shaped like a vase, the other a svelte blonde with her hair done up in a bun and a spraytan--knelt down in front of him, fondling and squeezing his artificially massive testicles as they looked up at him with loving sadism.

The man jerked at his chains, but there was only so much he could move without hurting his cock. They had him, as it were, by the balls.

"Please," he panted, his face crumpling with weakness and pleasure. "Please, Kitty, I can't take it anymore!"

His feeble protests were all for naught, as the two women seemed all too happy to test the limits of his sanity.

"That's okay," Kitty said. "I'm not going to blow you."

"Really?" the man said.

"Chastity will," Kitty said, stepping aside with an evil smirk. The svelte blonde suddenly craned her neck and wrapped her wide, sausage-thick lips around the head of his cock. Her tongue worked at him mightily; you could see it churning and churling around behind the skin of her cheeks as if she were chewing at some kind of hard candy.

The man squealed, his fingers and toes spreading apart and wriggling violently at the stimulation. Naughtily, the raven-haired goddess bent down and grinned as she hefted one red, grapefruit-sized testicle in the palm of her hand and began to suckle and nurse at it like a giant gobstopper. "Ohhhhhhh!" said the man, who slammed his eyes shut and thrashed his head from side to side, as if to ward the sensations away. With the two mouths pulling at his groin in opposite directions, it was almost as if they were tearing him apart with pleasure. The two ladies lavished his cock with their mouths, seeming like they were trying to touch every part of his cock and balls with every avaliable inch of their inner cheeks, their heads ducking and bobbing in a frenzied rhythm of mind-bending fellatio as they glared up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm gonna--I'm gonna--oh shit Chastity I'm gonna let go I can't stop--f--f--fffffuuucccckkkk!!!" the man screamed, throwing his head back and uttering a high-pitched howl.

Chastity and Kitty continued their blowjob as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, the man's cock was beet red, the veins popping out of his foreskin like an overused muscle as it pulsed with wave after wave of crashing orgasm. Thick gouts of pearly-white cream began to leak out from the corners of Chastity's mouth, but her pink tongue darted out and slurped them up before they could run down to her chin.

"What did--what did he do?" Monica asked pensively. "To earn that kind of punishment?"

"Oh, he tried running away," Vanessa said nonchalantly. "Don't worry. This is only the first phase of his punishment, where we soften them up before really working on their minds. First, make them crave the lips and mouths of our caretakers, sucking every last ounce of energy and rebellion they have from their cocks. Teaches them how to behave. Then, once they're so tired they can't fight back anymore, our caretakers initiate the next phase..."

They walked down the corridor and pushed through a set of heavy metal doors. "This is a restricted area," Vanessa said. "In other words, Phase Two of our covert milking operations."

Vanessa unlocked another metal door with her keycard and opened it to reveal a king-sized bed where a dominatrix in pump heels was curled up against a coffin-shaped shell made of some kind of hard plastic, with a giant hole cut out to reveal two enormous testicles and a giant erection. The intern gasped when she realized a man was trapped inside there. A plastic hose extended from the sex coffin's mouthpiece to a valve in the wall.

"Pumps our subjects with a chemical cocktail I like to call "Love Gas," Vanessa explained. She tittered. "I'll let you figure out what it does. Watch."

They watched. Lazily, the dominatrix yawned, reached over to her bedside table, and pressed a hidden button. There was a gaseous hissing noise as the valve was released. A few moments later, the coffin slave began to shudder violently in his bondage, which didn't amount to much unless you noticed the irregular vibrations of the coffin.

"Soundproofed, too," Vanessa grinned. "Hear that hum?"

Lexi listened. A faint hum was barely audible at the threshold of her consciousness. Vanessa leaned over and cupped a hand around her mouth. "He's screaming at the top of his lungs," she whispered conspiratorially. "Research shows that Love Gas can increase dopamine receptors in the sexual regions of a man's body up to tenfold of his normal physiological capacity."

The coffin slave's erection suddenly became even larger than it already was. His red cock trembled futilely in the air, bucked up once or twice, then stopped, still red and throbbing. Visibly annoyed, the dominatrix rolled onto her feet and pulled out a single pair of nylon pantyhose from the bedside drawer. She stretched it out.

"What's she going to do?" Lexi asked.

"Watch. This is always my favorite part."

With deft hands that called to mind a spider weaving a silk cocoon, the dominatrix dropped one hose of the nylon stocking over the enormous shaft, letting the splendidly soft fabric pool around the base of his cock. Holding it in place with one hand, she pinched the edge of the stocking with the other and slowly--very slowly--began to unravel the stocking along the head of the man's cock. The excruciating friction was so devious in its application that Lexi couldn't help but bite her lip with satisfaction. This was what she signed up for. She could hear a tiny whistling noise in the air. The man must have been squealing.

Thick spurts of white began to soak through the stocking's fabric. While the air continued to whistle, the dominatrix paused in her torture to gently squeeze the man's balls and whisper loving nonsense into his ears.

"She's just doing breakdown duty," Vanessa said. "Sometimes, men need to learn their place in the world, and we need to remind them every day, otherwise their silly minds forget. We do this to them eight times a day, usually. Sixteen times for more serious patients. The process repeats for an entire week. Longer if necessary."

Lexi eyed the coffin slave. "And he is--"

"David Adams," Vanessa said. "Founder and CEO of the Unitech Corporation. He tried resisting my caretakers when they entered his hotel room by not volunteering himself for them, so Charlotte and Olivia sent him here to teach him a lesson."

"Wow," Lexi said. "I wish I could do that to a man."

"You will, but only after training. As for David, we've put him on an eight-times a day schedule," Vanessa said. She tapped her lower lip with her pen. "But now that you mention it... I think a man of his stature needs a little more humbling before he deserves to be milked like a proper cum cow, don't you think?"

"I think that's a great idea," Lexi said, licking her lips. Vanessa nodded.

"Sabrina!" she called to the dominatrix, who glanced up at her curiously. "Make sure to double your patient's doses of all Love Gas. And increase his daily stocking screamers to sixteen a day."

"Will do!" Sabrina said, and moved into action. Meanwhile, the coffin remained inert, although everyone knew the violent, desperate struggle that was going on beneath. Albeit muffled to some degree, he could still hear every word they said.

The two of them continued down the corridor. They rounded a corner, pushed open a door, and stepped into a vast room with a very low ceiling where hundreds, if not thousands, of men were being milked by machines. Rows and rows of them stood bowed over, legs spread wide apart with spreader bars as their mutant testicles dangled beneath them. Lexi almost felt her legs buckle; she trembled with ecstasy. This was like a dream come true. Their testicles were literally as large as watermelons, and they rested comfortably on special cushions that were designed to reduce the weight pulling down on them.

Their hands were bound behind their backs with thick leather cuffs, but their arms were so thin and weak from chronic underuse that Lexi doubted they could do much damage even if they were free. Attached to each of their heads were a pair of VR goggles with noise-cancelling headphones glued to their ears. A jungle of feeder tubes snaked from their mouths into the ceiling, pumping in mixtures of drugged food, water, and Love Gas.

Trapped in complete oblivion, the men only roared and squealed and groaned and begged to deaf ears as they were milked by the complex undergrowth of machinery surrounding their cocks and balls--large vibrator pads that roamed across the globes of their testicles in random motions designed for them never to get used to the stimulation, a rotation of hundreds of different-sized and shaped vibrating plugs and dildos designed to soften their prostates as rapidly and efficiently as possible, and a hydraulic pump / motorized sleeve attachment on the head of their cock that could simulate up to fifty-thousand different permutations of blowjob / handjob / intercourse actions in a bewildering tidal wave of powerful sexual sensations that could keep them on edge for days on end, or force orgasms out of them five times a minute. Despite the vast facility-wide automation of male milking machines, each man's experience was a distinctly different one.

All the while, teams of milkers--also called "Mommies" in their section of the compound--patrolled the long aisles with a militant attentiveness and sadistic pleasure. These women, who repaired the machinery, tailored the settings to fit each man's needs, and would milk the men by hand on the rare occasion that the equipment failed, sent a shudder of fear and loathing through Lexi's heart. They were some of the most ruthless and calculated of all the dominatrixes, and it was no surprise that the dehumanizing aspect of the job attracted them to it. In fact, many of the Mommies here had personally subdued and kidnapped these milking subjects, sometimes programming the VR channels to brainwash them to their beauty... and their glorious curves.

Lexi noticed most, if not all of the Mommies were rather on the larger side of the beauty scale. They weren't fat, but their curves had a way of filling up space that no other woman could, often giving them a more maternal appearance than immediately set men at ease, while simultaneously arousing in them strange sexual feelings they couldn't readily explain. Their breasts and butts were cartoonishly large, assets that they often used to lure men in before they smothered them between their tits with a potent dose of Love Gas or cuffed them up while sitting on their bodies.

In spite of herself, Lexi felt a powerful sense of jealousy at these women. Why couldn't she look like them? She clenched her fists, surpressing a growl as she watched a team of four Mommies strut down the aisle towards her, their eyes shining with a stupid, bovine light. Dressed in their black latex catsuits and pump heels, they appeared like the sexual paragon of evil, motherly grace. She was furious.

They stopped in front of her, near an empty milking stall.

"Watch and learn," Vanessa said, crossing her arms beneath her own chest, which was already considerble.

The largest of the Mommies, a blonde with emerald-green eyes and thick lips that looked as soft as pillows, smiled gently as she unzipped the front of her catsuit, the latex snapping back as her enormous breasts threatened to flood out in a soft avalanche of titflesh. If if wasn't for that catsuit, Lexi thought, they'd pour out of her.

Lexi shuddered.

The blonde reached in between the monumental valley of her cleavage and pushed it apart to reveal the face of a normally-sized man, his face a deep red from a combination of intense sexual arousal and asphyxiation. He gasped, taking huge, sobbing breaths as he lunged for the air up above. His arms, it seemed, were pinned somewhere beneath her enormous breasts, which positively dwarfed him.

"That's it, baby, that's it," the blonde cooed, as she furtively detached a leather gas mask with no eyeports from her utility belt and pressed it against the man's face. Her deceptively nimble fingers activated the pink canister of Love Gas attached to the respirator port and then shoved his head back between her tits, burying him completely.

"Just breath it all in," she said, zipping up her catsuit. "Mommy's going to listen to make sure you do it, so don't even think about trying to cheat. This is for your own good, and Mommy only wants what's best for you. You trust your Mommy, don't you?"

There was a muffled moan somewhere far beneath her.

Meanwhile, the other three Mommies moved to activate and prime the milking station for the man's induction.

"This isn't right," Lexi blurted out, glaring at the Mommy with the blonde hair.

"Pardon me?" she said, turning towards her. Vanessa opened her mouth in surprise, then closed it.

Lexi stammered. The Mommy was staring at her with an unnerving sharpness, those green eyes seeming to pierce the very essence of her being. Goosebumps spread across her shoulders and neck. It felt as if she was being analyzed. Lexi tried to clear her thoughts, groping for something appropriate to say next. Behind the soft, unassuming light of those eyes belied a cold intelligence that Lexi had not prepared herself for.

"Um, what I mean to say, is, good job," Lexi said, her face blushing a dark red. She mentally kicked herself. Why was she getting so hot?

"If you have something to say, just say it," the Mommy said. To Lexi's dread, the Mommy approached her slowly, shoulders rolling languidly as she walked. She ran her hands along the curves of her hips. "After all, you can tell Mommy anything."

Lexi took a step back, feeling a sickening, unfamiliar tingle in her nether region. She glanced to Vanessa for help, but she was looking elsewhere, seemingly unaware of their conversation.

"There's nothing I have to say to you," Lexi said heatedly. "It's just--it's just that you seem to play with men, as if they're toys, and you're so nonchalant about it--"

"And you don't?" Mommy said, grinning at her. She seemed to move even closer, grow even larger. In fact, Mommy was a good six inches taller than Lexi was, despite how developed her body was.

"Well, it's just that--" Lexi groaned inside. She shouldn't have started this conversation in the first place. "Look, men are slaves to be broken, and milked. You treat them as if they were pets."

"Sometimes, the fastest way to break a man is the easiest one," Mommy said mysteriously, gently patting the bulge of latex between her catsuit. "Men are so simple. All they really want is a pair of tits in their face. And a finger up their ass, if they're being naughty."

"What are you even saying?" Lexi said, but even she had lost her steam.

"Men want to be punished," Mommy said. "You just have to break them in just the right places for it to happen. Understand?"

"Yes, I think I do," Lexi said, eager to end the conversation.

"Women, on the other hand... they need a little more convincing," Mommy said, tracing her fingernails along the bottom of Lexi's chin. Lexi felt a shock of pleasure despite herself.

"Vanessa told me about you, Lexi. She said you'd be an excellent subject."

"She--wait, what?"

Alarmed, Lexi stepped back and glanced around the vast milking room. Vanessa was nowhere to be found.

"Hold on a second," Lexi said, and leaned over Mommy's shoulder to find the other three Mommy's missing.

This was a trap. Vanessa's trap. The Mommy had been walking steadily closer, blocking her view while the other Mommys moved into position. Heart pounding, Lexi turned to run, but just then the three other Mommys--all of them taller, heavier, bustier than she was--overwhelmed her in a landslide of latex and hot perfume and titflesh. She was standing upright, but she couldn't move a muscle. She couldn't even breathe. They trapped her with their tits, holding her in place while three pairs of hands went to work beneath her.

Lexi shouted in terror, but she struggled to keep her head above the waves of titflesh. Combined with her sweat, they felt almost glued to her. Above those tits, the attractive, motherly faces of the Mommys treated her to devilish grins or loving stares as they whispered sweet nothings into her ears, slowly eroding her sense of independence. She couldn't look down. She might as well have been blind to everything below her neckline, although the sensations felt doubly more sensitive due to her inability to see what was going to happen next.

Three pairs of hands undressed her with frantic, hungry dexterity, tugged down her leather pants, and slipped between her legs with the fluidity of a swarm of warm, muscled eels that smelled of coconut oil and moisturizing lotion. Fingers danced into her clit, wriggled into her butthole at the same time, pumped in and out of her frontside and backside until her legs were numb with shuddering. Hot waves of explosive, white pleasure smashed into her body. Her knees buckled, but the three pairs of tits held her up as if nothing had happened.