Morning milking

Maul will not sleep beside you or look at you the next morning. He flattens his ears and walks out of the faux cave that serves as your den when you try to speak to him. Your heart hurts from the humiliation of the arena the day before. All those students watching your pathetic performance. Now your mate will not even speak to you, hardly even look at you, because he smells what you have become.

Bottles of formula are dropped into the enclosure with your daily food and water. It means you will be milked today. Uncharacteristically, Maul gathers your pups and the bottles and begins to hand feed them. You want to cry, but there are no tears for this sort of moment.

In minutes the orderlies come. Three instead of the usual two and the additional man is armed with some sort of stunner weapon. If they came expecting trouble, they do not find it. You are completely submissive, not even covering your naked body as you rise and allow them to lead you out of the enclosure with their strong hands clamped on your biceps.

The milking room is brightly lit, the pedestal for you too stand smelling of sterile chemicals. A fresh plastic container is attached to the pumping apparatus as you are helped into the harness so that your huge, milk-tight breasts hang beneath you. The sight of the equipment triggers your lactation and your swollen, red nipples begin dripping before the orderlies even reach for the rubber-cupped cylinders they will attach to your breasts.

The milking harness puts you in a revealing position with your ass up and the straps tightened just beneath your breasts and around your waist, just above your hips, only add to the exposure. The orderlies are looking at your naked body - at the fuzzy peach of your mound and your tight, pink rosebud - and you do not care. It is nothing compared to the humiliation you have already endured.

One of the orderlies, a man with short-cropped brown hair and a bit of paunch, massages your nipples with a lubricant jelly. His fingers squeeze and stroke your distended teets and he sneers at the pleasure you cannot hide from him. You moan softly and look away from him.

"She's ready," he says and motions the other orderly over with the rubber-cupped milking pumps. The man holds them over your nipples while his companion activates the pumping. Immediately they begin snapping with pressure and you moan as your nipples and the puffy caps of your areolae are drawn into the suction.

Warm milk squirts rhythmically from your swollen breasts and begins filling the tubes feeding through the pumping equipment to the container. You can see it flowing white through the transparent hoses. The room is filled with the sound of the pumping. Beside the machinery there are two large refrigerators that are more than half filled with the milk you have expressed over just a few weeks.

"All set," says the orderly who attached the cups. He strips off rubber gloves and starts towards the door. His companion lingers by the machinery.

"I think I'm going to, uh, check the equipment," says the orderly with the short-cropped hair and the beer gut. His friend shakes his head.

"You're gonna get caught," he says, but he steps out of the pumping room, leaving you alone with the other man. This has happened before. You know what to expect from these sickos.

"It's a shame," says the paunchy orderly, walking towards you. "Prime piece of ass like you getting fucked by all those monsters. You need a man to remind you how good it can be."

You doubt he's the one who will remind you. He opens his belt and begins unzipping his trousers. This man has touched you before, with fingers, but never taken out his cock. Not today. He lets his pants fall down to his ankles and feeds the hard, red length of his cock through the flap of his boxers as he approaches you.

"Mmmm," he says, running a hand over your back and giving your ass a squeeze as he slowly jacks his cock. "You're like an all-you-can-eat buffet. So many choices."

You cannot stifle a moan of pleasure as the pumps draw steadily on your nipples, slowly draining your milk. The orderly smiles, assuming your reaction is for him.