Head to the milking parlor with Mira and prepare to manually milk her cock

Paradise Breeding Farm, Rural Nowhere, at 1:27 PM on Monday, April 15th, 2024 (Day 1 of 7).

────────────────────────────────

Mira helps me stand, her strong hand steadying my trembling legs as the weight of my cum-swollen belly pulls me forward. "Come on," she murmurs gently, her cow ears twitching nervously. "The milking parlor isn't far."

We walk slowly through the farm complex, past the observation area where Meadow and Hera are just entering the breeding enclosure. My bare feet pad against cool concrete floors as we navigate a corridor I haven't explored yet. Mira's massive cock bobs with each step, still achingly hard, a bead of precum forming at the tip and dripping to the floor.

"I really appreciate this," Mira says quietly. "I know you've been through hell today already."

The milking parlor is larger than I expected—a clean, well-lit space with specialized equipment lining the walls. There are padded benches at various heights, collection vessels of different sizes mounted on wheeled stands, and what looks like an entire wall of sanitation supplies.

"Welcome to the primary collection facility," ARIA's voice announces from overhead speakers. "Mira, please position yourself on bench three. Lily, retrieve collection vessel seven from the storage rack—it's calibrated for cowgirl futa volume."

Mira moves to the indicated bench, a padded surface at waist height. She sits on the edge, her massive cock jutting upward, the mottled pink-and-white shaft pulsing with visible need. Her heavy balls rest against the bench, visibly full and swollen.

I locate vessel seven—a clear cylindrical container about the size of a large thermos with measurement markings along the side. My hands shake slightly as I carry it over and set it on the wheeled stand beside Mira's bench.

"Positioning is important," ARIA instructs. "Stand between Mira's legs. This provides optimal leverage and control. Use both hands on the shaft initially to establish rhythm."

I step between Mira's spread thighs, acutely aware of how small and inexperienced I am. Her cock towers before me, thick as my wrist, the flared head already glistening with precum. The musky scent of her arousal fills my nostrils—earthy and overwhelming.

"Just... take your time," Mira whispers, her breathing already ragged. "There's no rush."

I reach out with both trembling hands and wrap my fingers around the heated shaft. The skin is impossibly soft over the steel-hard core beneath. Mira gasps at the contact, her hips jerking involuntarily.

"Grip pressure is adequate," ARIA confirms. "Now establish upward stroke from base to glans. Maintain consistent tempo. Mira's verbal and physical responses will guide optimization."

I begin stroking upward, my small hands sliding along the thick shaft. More precum wells from the tip, coating my fingers, making the movement slicker.