Masturbate First

You reason that no useful desicions are going to be made while in this state. This is why the daily routine always calls for this in the beginning. To ease this irksome irritant, you lean back in the throne and spread your legs open. There is never any underwear there; it would just get in the way. Your right hand moves over to your nether region, while the left one scoops out your right breast and positions it where the nipple is pointing towards the dirt ground. The motions have been done so many times, a kind of rythm developed. Right hand jacks off, left hand milks right boob, left hand milks left boob, climax. This time would surely be no different. Of course, before you had a few slaves to choose from to vary the pace every so often, but since the dead weight had to be abandoned in order to get this far, you were stuck all by your lonesome today.

A few minutes passed of your milk spraying to the floor along with your juices, when someone emerged from the shadows to stand before you.

"Mother, excuse my presence." The armorclad dark elf greets as he kneels and bows.

You don't bother to stop. Every child of yours knows of the condition and considers the acts required for you to remedy them absolutely normal. Even this soilder had seen you exposed a few times before. He is one of the middle children who studied under the guidance of Beldin. His contact with you is limited, prefering to be quiet and on his own. The name even eludes you; no, wait, Darius! He is Darius. His body is fine-tuned, perfect for a soilder assassin. Your few reports of him show he is definitely more intelligent and physically capable than average. His face is often the one leading the small mock battalions during training.

"What is it?" You snap, angered by the situation.

"One of the columns collapsed in the western end. We are not sure how to continue construction."

"Ngh. I entrust all authority to Daralim for this matter. I am preoccupied for the moment."

Darius nods his head "Understood mother" and rises to his feet to exit the premesis. However, he stops halfway and turns his head back towards you.

"What!? Do you have anything else to say? Spill it already!"

In a single jolt, Darius runs at you until he is is looming over your body. He positions his right hand onto your right breast and his left hand onto your vagina, pushing your hands off entirely. His treatment begins with hard tugs to squeeze as much milk out as possible and short, quick jabs into you. Your eyes wince and teeth grit from this unexpected turn of events.

"What!...Ah...What are you-!"

"Mother, every day I know you to be in this agony. I am at ease when you have a **** by your side to help, but I can not stand the idea of you doing it on your own."

He then nuzzles his face into your left breast, breaking it free from the constraints of your shirt. Once exposed, he does not hesitate to swallow his entire mouth onto your nipple area and begin to forcefully suck the overture of milk concentrated in there. Your head swings back, and your hand involuntarily rests onto his head. Never before had you experienced such enthusiasm. The slaves always restrained themselves out of spite. Needless to say, you go over the edge fairly quickly, spraying a stream of juices onto his hand.

He lifts up his head and hands, turns around, and walks away for a few steps. "I am glad to ease you through that." You notice the treatment was enough even for your boobs. The no longer dripped of milk anymore, only from saliva. In this somewhat diluted state, you ponder the possibility of Darius as the scout canadite. He is not the most sneaky, but he is certainly more adept than the rest. Likewise, his loyalty to you is thouroghly established