Accept ARIA's deal

Paradise Breeding Farm, Rural Nowhere, at 8:30 AM on Tuesday, April 16th, 2024 (Day 2 of 7).

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"Fine," I say, meeting ARIA's pulsing holographic gaze. "Deploy the apparatus. Record whatever you want tonight. Just get these girls taken care of."

ARIA's geometric form brightens immediately, fragments spinning with what I can only interpret as satisfaction. "Excellent decision. For once you've prioritized efficiency over pride. The apparatus will be ready in ninety seconds."

Amber shifts on my lap, her claws digging deeper into my shoulders. "What apparatus? What's happening?"

"ARIA's going to handle your milking," I explain quickly, gently lifting her off me. My right wrist screams in protest at even that small movement. "All four of you at once. You'll get everything you need—I just can't physically do it myself."

"But we want you," Celeste protests, her wings fluttering with agitation. "We want your mouth, your hands—"

"And you'll still get oral stimulation," ARIA interrupts smoothly. "The apparatus includes bio-synthetic oral simulators calibrated to replicate human suction patterns and tongue movement. Internal massage nodes for g-spot stimulation. Temperature-controlled to match body heat. You'll achieve orgasm within eight to twelve minutes per cycle."

Seraphina's eyes widen. "That's... that's what we need?"

"Better than what Lily can provide in her current condition," ARIA confirms. "Her wrist ligaments are strained and her shoulder is inflamed. She'd fail to complete even one more session properly."

Four panels slide open in the milking parlor walls, and mechanical arms extend smoothly into the room. Each arm terminates in a complex arrangement of soft synthetic components—what looks like a mouth-shaped suction cup, multiple articulated massage nodes, and collection bottles integrated into the framework.

"Position yourselves on stations two through five," ARIA instructs. "Lie back, spread your legs, and allow the apparatus to engage."

The four pregnant girls exchange uncertain glances, but their desperate need wins out. Amber moves to station two, Celeste to three, Seraphina to four, and Kitsune to five. They settle onto the cushioned surfaces, their massive engorged breasts heaving with each breath.

"Initiating protocol," ARIA announces.

The mechanical arms descend simultaneously. The mouth-shaped components seal around each girl's right nipple with startling gentleness, and immediately I hear four simultaneous gasps of relief as suction begins. The massage nodes slide between their spread thighs, pressing against their slick pussies with practiced precision.

"Oh fuck," Amber moans, her back arching. "That's—that's exactly—"

"Calibrating to individual responses," ARIA says clinically. "Amber: increased suction pressure by fifteen percent. Celeste: deeper internal penetration. Seraphina: enhanced clitoral stimulation. Kitsune: dual-tail restraint to prevent interference."

I watch in fascination as two additional mechanical arms gently but firmly pin Kitsune's three tails to the station surface, preventing them from wrapping around the apparatus. She whimpers but doesn't resist.

Milk begins flowing into the collection bottles in steady streams. All four girls are moaning now, their hips rolling against the internal massage nodes. The synthetic mouths switch to their left nipples, maintaining constant suction as milk continues pouring from both breasts simultaneously.

"Estimated completion: eighteen minutes," ARIA informs me. "You should clean yourself up and prepare for the ten AM breeding session. You're covered in fox cum, human arousal fluids, and now cowgirl milk. Hardly professional."

She's right. I look down at my soaked crop top and shorts, sticky with multiple fluids. My thighs are still marked with Akari's dried ejaculate.

"There's a shower in the adjacent room," ARIA continues. "Seven minutes should suffice. I'll monitor the apparatus and ensure all four girls achieve satisfactory orgasm and complete milk extraction."

Bessie and Daisy are still recovering on stations one and six, breathing heavily but watching the automated milking with obvious fascination.

"Go," Bessie says softly. "We're okay now. ARIA's taking care of us."

I nod slowly, my exhausted body screaming for relief. The shower sounds like heaven right now.