Nellie's way out

The day was like any other on the farm, the air thick with the smell of hay and sweat. The Dairy Queens were in their harnesses, breasts painfully full, the rhythmic hum of the pumps filling the barn. Nellie, her body tired from the morning’s exertions, tried to focus on anything but the dull ache in her chest as the machines did their work.

Suddenly, the barn door creaked open, and in walked a figure that immediately stood out against the grimy backdrop of the farm. The man was tall, sharply dressed in a suit that seemed out of place in this setting. His shoes, polished to a mirror shine, clicked against the concrete floor as he made his way toward Tom, who was standing by the pumps, watching the milk flow with a critical eye.

Tom looked up, surprised to see someone like this on his farm. The man extended a hand with a practiced smile.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Henderson. My name is Mr. Franklin. I represent Tanaka Foods & Dairy. I’m here on an expedition, looking for promising stock.”

Tom grunted, shaking the offered hand more out of obligation than politeness. He eyed Mr. Franklin suspiciously. “You’re a long way from the city. Ain't nothing promising 'ere.”

Mr. Franklin’s smile widened, revealing perfect teeth. “That's not what I heard, Mr. Henderson. My sources let me know that you have some exceptional Dairy Queen in your care. And we’re always looking for the best.”

Tom’s gaze flicked over to Nellie, who was trying to stay focused on the conversation despite the relentless pull of the pumps. Mr. Franklin followed his line of sight, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Nellie’s form. He approached her slowly, almost reverently, as if she were a rare specimen.

Nellie felt his eyes on her, and she shifted uncomfortably in her harness. She wasn’t used to being looked at like this—not with curiosity, but with something almost like… admiration? It made her uneasy.

Mr. Franklin stopped in front of her, taking in the sheer volume of her breasts, the tautness of her skin stretched to its limits, and the steady stream of milk flowing from her into the pumps. He nodded approvingly.

“This must be it,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Exceptional specimen. How long has she been with you?”

“Couple of years now,” Tom replied, crossing his arms. “She’s a good worker, always hits 'er quotas.”

Mr. Franklin turned to look at Tom. “And how much milk does she produce daily?”

Tom scratched his chin. “About seventy liters, give or take. Depends on the day.”

Mr. Franklin’s eyebrows shot up, clearly impressed. He turned back to Nellie, his expression thoughtful. “And how are you finding things here, Miss…?”

Nellie hesitated. She wasn’t used to being asked questions, especially not by someone like him. “It’s… fine,” she said finally, her voice low.

Mr. Franklin seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. “I see. And have you ever thought about working in the city, Miss Nellie? The facilities there are more advanced, and the conditions… well, let’s just say they’re more suited to someone of your rank.”

Nellie’s heart skipped a beat. The city. She hadn’t thought about it in years—not since she’d lost her job there and ended up in this place. But the memory of the city, with its bright lights and clean, modern facilities, was still there, buried deep beneath the layers of exhaustion and resignation.

Tom scowled, clearly not liking the direction this conversation was going. “She ain't for sale,” he said gruffly. “She’s my best producer.”

Mr. Franklin didn’t miss a beat. “We’re prepared to make a very generous offer. Think of it as an investment in the future.”

Tom’s scowl deepened, but it was clear the offer had piqued his interest. He glanced at Nellie, then back at Mr. Franklin. “How generous are we talking?”

Mr. Franklin smiled that practiced, confident smile again. “You'll sell her to us and we'll keep buying your product for another 5 years.”

Tom felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Those fucking corpos were ripping him off. This was nothing less than extortion.

Nellie wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or terrified. The idea of leaving this place was all too tempting—God knew she’d had enough of the boys’ constant titfucking and the backbreaking work. But the thought of returning to the city was equally daunting.

Tom was silent for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “Aight. You pay'n cash?”

“Of course,” Mr. Franklin said smoothly. He pulled out a sleek tablet from his briefcase and began tapping away. “I’ll have the contract drawn up, and the payment will arrive in just a minute.”

Nellie watched as Tom and Mr. Franklin discussed the details, her mind racing. This was really happening. She was going to be sold—traded like livestock. But maybe, just maybe, it would be for the better. At least in the city, she wouldn’t have to deal with the constant filth, the broken machinery, and the endless exploitation. Maybe she could finally find some peace.

Mr. Franklin finished with the tablet and handed it to Tom, who looked it over with a grunt of approval. “Now, where's my cash?”

Nellie’s heart pounded in her chest as the two men shook hands. This was it. Her life was about to change, for better or worse.

Mr. Franklin turned to Nellie, his expression warm but professional. "Just one more thing to do before we can finish this transaction..."