Right

Instinctively, Lois turned to the right, one hand trailing on the wall, into the darkness. Her steps were small, careful, unable to see the ground in front of her, testing each step before putting her weight on it. But in the darkness, as she forgot for a moment what sight was, her sense of hearing grew sharper...

I saw a maid milk a bull. Fie, man, fie.

A female voice, unaccompanied, untrained. A bit of a rustic accent.

I saw a maid milk a bull, who's the fool now?

There was a musky odor to the air now...animal-like...and beneath that, a familiar acrid tang that made Lois' pussy drool. Biting her lip she paused for a moment to get a hold of herself...it wasn't too late to turn back...

I saw a maid milk a bull, at every pull a bucket full.

The reporter's feet dragged her forward, senses alive now. She breathed in the wet, familiar scents, like being slapped in the face with a wet jockstrap. And the cheery voice kept singing.

Thou hast well drunken, man, who's the fool now?

The wall stopped at a heavy curtain...heavy enough to block out all light, but the sound came through...and very carefully, Lois' fingers found the edge and turned it aside, just a little.

The pale light blinded her for just a moment, nightvision gone in a flash...but when she blinked away it was only a very modern energy-efficient bulb, set into the ceiling. Lois held her breath, opening the curtain just a little more to see the room.

It was a kind of a stable, with two wooden stalls, the bottoms lined with shredded newspaper. The one nearest the curtain was apparently empty, and in the other, sitting on a three-legged milking stool was the woman that had been singing...young, strongly built, like a Kansas farmgirl, with ruddy cheeks and cornsilk hair. And she sang now...loudly and to herself...

De'il tak the hindmost

Wha'er she be

The arms were pumping and... Lois shook, suddenly seized by a kind of cramp in her gut. It was all that she could do not to make any noise, until it passed...and she could almost swear she felt her ovaries throbbing, though she knew that was impossible.

In the stall with the woman was a...creature. It must have been ten feet tall if it stood upright, but it could not stand. Shaggy, goat-like hair covered the hindlimbs, and curling horns ran back from the brow. A heavy collar of iron and a kind of yoke ran around it's neck, and held its arms parallel to it's pointed ears; the whole device attached to the wall at four points by chains at least two inches thick.

And it had an erection.

Lois barely caught a glimpse of the thing, a great fat red pecker as thick as her forearm and about as long...and the singing maid was rubbing it, up and down, squeezing and humming to herself, rough strong hands stroking the shaft...and the milkmaid had a blue plastic bucket on the floor before her, empty and ready to receive, and on the floor next to Lois, just a foot from the curtain was another...brimming full of a familiar white liquid.