Try to calm everyone down

Paradise Breeding Farm, Rural Nowhere, at 10:01 AM on Monday, April 15th, 2024 (Day 1 of 7).

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"Everyone, please, just—just calm down," you stammer, raising your hands in what you hope is a placating gesture. "We can handle this one at a time. Let me start with the pregnant girls' milking first, and then I'll—"

"Too late for that, sweetheart," Kara growls, and the sound reverberates through your chest. Her massive cock throbs visibly, a thick pearl of precum rolling down the shaft. "You have no fucking idea what you've done."

The air itself feels electric, crackling with raw sexual energy. Your skin prickles all over, heat flooding through your body in waves you've never experienced before. Between your thighs, your pussy clenches involuntarily, suddenly slick with arousal you can't control.

"Oh god," Bessie moans from her milking bench, abandoning the equipment entirely. Her hand works frantically between her spread thighs, fingers disappearing into her dripping cunt. "I need... I need to be filled..."

"The pheromones are cascading," ARIA announces clinically, though you detect amusement threading through her voice. "Pregnant girls producing fertility signals. Futas responding with mating hormones. Classic feedback loop. And look at your vitals, Lily—your body's responding too. Heart rate spiking. Pupils dilated. Vaginal lubrication increasing. You're just as affected as they are."

Tasha whimpers, her dog ears flat against her head. "I'm sorry, I can't—I have to—" She's off her bench, moving toward you with desperate need in her eyes.

Selene's wings unfurl with a sound like sheets rustling. "Forgive me," she breathes, though her smile contradicts the apology. Her angelic cock curves upward, precum already stringing from the tip.

Velara slides off her bench with feline grace, tail lashing. "Come here, little virgin," she purrs. "Let us teach you what you've been missing."

You try to back away, but your legs won't obey. The heat between your thighs has become an ache, a need that terrifies you with its intensity. Your nipples have hardened into painful points against your clothes.

Mira stands, her enormous cock bobbing with each step toward you. "I'm sorry," she whispers, but she doesn't stop moving. "I can't control it anymore."

Kara reaches you first.

Her hand closes around your wrist—not painfully, but with absolute authority. Her crimson skin burns against yours. "The virgin manager," she murmurs, pulling you toward the center of the room where the benches have been abandoned. "About to get the education of her life."

The others converge, forming a circle around you. Pregnant bellies, heavy breasts leaking milk, thick throbbing cocks, dripping pussies—all of it focused on you with singular, overwhelming intent.

"Please," you whisper, though you're no longer certain what you're begging for.

"Don't worry," Velara says, reaching for your shirt. "We'll be gentle. At first."