Try for help ...

'Help me get out of here' The words echo in your riddled brain. 'He's kind and reasonable.' a distant thought quickly clouding over with the haze of unbridled lust. Unfortunately for you, what comes out of your mouth is, "Mooo ... Moooooo ... Moooooooo ... ungh ... Mooooooooo ... oooo ... oooo"

The blinding orgasm explodes from deep within your core. Flashes of bright white fill an otherwise total blackness. Sounds of exploding fireworks fill your head as a freight train comes roaring through simultaneously. 'Fuck ... Fuck ... Fuck' now fills your brain as you hump deliriously backwards towards your imaginary lover, your raw sex refusing to let go of its grip. Frothy white cream seeps copiously from the juncture, little rivulets trailing down your thighs leave a telling tale.

'This feeling is incredible,' you convince yourself as you ride the emotional plateau of your orgasm. Residual tremors continue to erupt, keeping you on a high, you never want to come down from. 'I can become addicted to this,' you allow yourself to believe.

It's only when you are able to open your eyes, that you can see the clear tubes are now full of the white, creamy substance being extracted from your tits. For the first time, you allow your eyes to trace the path of the tubes. They lead to a conveyor belt containing one gallon glass jugs, which are filling rather quickly, before moving along the way. 'This is amazing that I can make so much milk!' Your sense of pride is filling throughout your body and soul.

"Whoa! What is this?" The resonating male voice brings you back to reality, recalling the studly cowboy that occupied your stall. He's standing next to the stockade, examining it closely. You can't see him off to the side, but you can hear him playing with the metal latches. The unmistakable sound of clanking metal fills your ears! The sudden realization that your only means of escape from this madness, if you so desired to escape, was now dependent on the actions of this farm hand.

'I have to concentrate and beg him to let me free' crosses your mind, however fleeting the thought may seem at the moment.