Kitchen Milking

You crawled slowly into the kitchen on all fours, tongue hanging limply out of your mouth, drool already forming a thin silver trail on the hardwood floor. Your swollen, sensitive breasts swayed beneath you with every movement, leaking warm milk in steady drips that pattered onto the tiles. From between your legs, the modified catheter tube on your caged clitty dripped a constant, thin stream of sweet milk as well, leaving a shiny trail behind you.

Dorothy followed, sipping coffee, watching your pathetic progress with a satisfied smile.

She stopped you in the center of the kitchen, right on the cool tile floor.

“Stay, MooMoo.”

She placed a large, shallow stainless steel bowl on the floor in front of you — the same one you used to eat her disgusting mixtures from before.

Then she brought over a low padded bench and sat down, legs spread.

“Come here, pretty cow.”

You crawled between her thighs, face level with her heavy breasts and thick cock. Your long tongue lolled out stupidly, drool dripping onto her thigh.

Dorothy cupped one of your swollen breasts and gave it a firm, testing squeeze.

A strong jet of warm, sweet milk sprayed out, splashing into the metal bowl with a loud ping-ping-ping.

She moaned softly in pleasure.

“Ohhh, such good udders already,” she cooed. “Full and ready for Mommy.”

She leaned forward, latched her mouth onto your left nipple, and began sucking hard. The sensation was intense — pleasure shooting straight to your core as she drank directly from you. Milk flowed freely into her mouth while more leaked from your right breast and your caged clitty, splattering messily onto the floor and into the bowl.

After drinking her fill from both nipples, she pulled back, lips shiny with your milk.

“Time to collect the rest, MooMoo.”

She positioned the bowl directly under your chest and began milking you properly — two hands working your swollen breasts in steady, rhythmic squeezes. Thick streams of warm milk sprayed into the bowl, filling it quickly. She didn’t forget your clitty either — every few seconds she’d reach down and stroke the base of your caged, pierced clitty, forcing more milk to squirt out through the catheter in pathetic, weak streams.

You could only moan and moo helplessly, tongue hanging out, drool mixing with the milk dripping from your chin.

“Moooo… Moooooo…”

Dorothy laughed softly, clearly aroused.

“That’s it. Make those cute cow sounds while Mommy milks her pretty little dairy cow.”

When the bowl was nearly full, she stopped and set it aside.

She stood up, towering over your crawling form.

“Thirsty work, milking a cow,” she said, voice thick. “Now Mommy needs something else.”

She lifted her cock and pressed the thick head against your permanently lolling tongue.

“Clean Mommy while your milk settles.”

You obediently began lapping at her shaft with your extended tongue — long, sloppy strokes, drool pouring freely as you licked and worshipped her. Milk continued to leak from your nipples and clitty onto the floor, forming small white puddles beneath you.

Dorothy stroked your hair gently while you worked.

“Good MooMoo… Such a perfect, leaky, dumb little cow. From now on, this is your life. Crawling around naked, udders full and dripping, tongue always hanging out, making messes everywhere you go.”

She tapped your cheek with her cock.

“And every morning and evening, you’ll be milked right here in the kitchen like the livestock you are.”

She pushed her cock into your mouth — sliding easily over your helpless, extended tongue until she was buried in your throat.

While she slowly fucked your face, she reached down and continued lazily milking one of your breasts, spraying milk onto the floor with every thrust.

The kitchen filled with wet, obscene sounds — the gluck-gluck of your throat, the constant dripping of your milk, and Dorothy’s low, satisfied moans.

She eventually pulled out, stroked herself twice, and painted your lolling tongue and face with thick ropes of cum.

“Swallow what you can, MooMoo. The rest can stay as decoration.”

She picked up the bowl of your fresh milk and took a long, satisfied sip.

“Delicious,” she purred. “My pretty little cow makes the best milk.”

She set the bowl down in front of you.

“Drink the rest, cow. Lick your bowl clean like a good MooMoo.”

You lowered your head, tongue hanging out, and began lapping up your own warm milk from the steel bowl while Dorothy watched, slowly stroking her cock back to full hardness.

The summer sun streamed through the kitchen windows.

And Mommy’s perfect lactating cow kept leaking, drooling, and mooing softly on the kitchen floor.