Chapter 31
Ihad a vague memory of the infirmary. A half memory of machines beeping and Carter’s voice, but when I opened my eyes fully, I recognized the interior of his room.
Carter sat in a chair by the bed and looked at me with delight.
I tried to turn and felt something massive on my chest. No, not on it, in it.
I looked down and couldn’t see my feet. I could barely see my stomach.
Instead, my view was filled by massive breasts – shockingly large, the kind I could believe were really udders.
I reached for them, squeezing them as if they weren’t mine.
And they weren’t, at least not like they had been.
They were heavy, flushed, and aching. My skin looked stretched, pink and sensitive, veins webbing just beneath the surface.
My nipples were fat and stiff, swollen like someone had been sucking on them for hours.
The mere touch against my skin by my own hands made me shudder.
Then I felt it. A hot little drip. Right down my ribs.
Milk.
“What the fuck,” I gasped.
I pushed the sheets away and tried to sit up.
My body barely responded. I was soaked. Sweat and something else too.
I pressed my thighs together; it only made things worse.
My clit pulsed and my nipples tingled like they were ready to pop.
My pussy was so wet, I wouldn’t have been surprised to have a puddle on the bed.
I tried cupping one of my breasts to relieve the pressure.
The moment I squeezed, more milk spurted out, hot and thick. I gasped. My knees nearly buckled.
Carter sat there, watching in silence as I came to terms with the change. His eyes raked over me in silence. He just stared, breathing slowly and heavily. Was he salivating? His lips curled into a grin - lazy, hungry, and proud.
“Hey,” he said, voice low and warm.
I opened my mouth, closed it, then shook my head. “What the hell did you do to me?”
He moved closer to the bed. Despite my horror, my whole body was melting and pulsing in need. As I squeezed my breasts again, all I could think about was him kneading my tits instead.
“You’re okay,” he said gently, sitting at the edge of the bed. “You’re more than okay. You’re perfect-”
“I’m leaking,” I said. “I can’t think. I can’t stop wanting—”
He was already on me, one hand reaching up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. The other cupped my breast, gently at first. The pressure made me sob. Another hot spurt of milk sprayed out, splashing onto his shirt. I almost came from the sensation alone.
“Oh fuck,” I whimpered. “Make it stop.”
He didn’t. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my temple.
“You don’t want it to stop,” he murmured.
And I didn’t. God help me, I didn’t. My thighs were slick and trembling. I didn’t even care anymore. I needed him. I needed him to milk me. I needed him to fuck me. Whatever would give me release and stop the perpetual ache that filled my body with a need like I’d never known.
“Radio the barn,” he said to some unseen speaker or microphone. “She’s ready.”
I moaned, loud, needy, shameless.
His hand stroked up my thigh, slowly, tenderly. I arched into the touch like I was addicted to him. My hips bucked without permission. My nipples throbbed. I was leaking again.
“I need you,” I whispered, breath ragged. “Please. Carter, please.”
He kissed me, just once, then pulled back with a grin. “Not yet, my beautiful little cow.”
“I’m so tired of hearing that!” I yelped.
He gently massaged my inner thigh. “I know. Soon. So soon.”
A sound caught in my throat, something between a sob and a moan. My body wouldn’t stop moving. My hips rolled, my breasts jiggling and dripping. Each attempt to get what I needed sparked more pleasure across my skin. I moaned again as the door opened.
A man stepped in with a polished steel machine and a set of tubes coiled like snakes. Carter took it from him, calm, focused, like this was any other day at the ranch. Except for the hunger in his eyes. That hunger was manic, barely restrained.
“I’ll do it,” he said roughly to the farm hand. “Leave.”
He turned back to me and knelt by the bed as the man walked out, leaving us alone. I stared at Carter as he attached the suction cups to my swollen nipples. The second the machine buzzed to life and I felt the light sucking, I screamed.
It was too much. It was perfect. It was exactly what I needed, but too intense and immediate to process.
Milk gushed out of me like I’d been holding it in for days.
I watched as the glass bottles at the end of the suction machine filled with it.
Thick, pristine, healthy milk. It clung to the sides as more gushed out.
The machine suction worked in pulses, ramping up, increasing the tension and relaxing after a gush.
Each pulse felt almost orgasmic. Not just from the painful, yet blissful vibration of the milk gushing out of my nipples, but because my breasts felt overly full.
Each pulse was relief, easing the pressure in my tits perfectly.
Carter leaned forward to place a tender kiss on my forehead.
I grabbed him and pulled him into a sloppy and needy kiss.
I slicked my tongue across his, sucked his tongue when he eased it into my mouth. Each time he tried to slow my frantic, desperate kisses, I bit back, desperate to make him feel what I felt. Want didn’t exist anymore. It was need – shameless, soul-churning need.
“Please, I need you to fuck me!” I begged.
My hips bucked. Desire echoed in his eyes.
He needed me almost as badly as I needed him, but something was holding him back.
Then, as another gush of milk broke from my tits, I knew what to do.
I mooed. I bucked my hips, spread my legs and mooed, holding eye contact with him.
The first moo wasn’t serious. It wasn’t heartfelt.
It just came out so naturally that the second one, I don’t even remember planning. I just spilled out.
That sound did things to Carter. His lust flared visibly.
His cock was trying to burst through his pants.
For me; for my body. His control was as threadbare as my resistance.
He moved to the bottom of the bed and placed himself between my legs.
I spread them further, showing him my soaking pussy, and I mooed again.
“Not yet, Tiff, my beautiful cow.”
I cried in frustration, but my annoyance didn’t last. The machine was still working on me, making my brain melt into a soup of need and desire. My whole body ached for release.
Carter buried his face between my legs, gripping my thick thighs.
He groaned as he licked my cunt, teasing my pussy lips, my clit, my entrance until he couldn’t hold back anymore.
The wet noises were obscene, but barely audible over the slushing sound of my heavy tits being milked.
Carter’s tongue, the machine, that relief and pleasure. It was all too much.
I came. I couldn’t tell if it was a single prolonged, intense orgasm or multiple. It blurred. Maybe the near black-out-intense ecstasy was a new type of orgasm, only possible after all these changes. I thought about Wren. All the things she said to me.
I didn’t believe that she’d stay voluntarily. Now, as Carter sucked my clit and the machine milked me, I believed her. I understood. It was better than any drug could possibly be. Nothing could compare to the sheer bliss ravaging my mind, body and soul.
I came again. Third time? Fourth? Who was counting? Not me. Time meant nothing.
At some point, the machine stopped. My tits felt light, a dull, almost pleasurable ache echoed in them. Carter lifted his soaking face from between my legs, rubbing his fingers across my pussy before offering them to me.
I sucked greedily. I was entranced. Drunk on orgasms without even getting fucked. Carter watched me intensely, his blue eyes penetrating my lustful soul.
“Is that enough, my cow?”
“I need more. I need to cum more. I need you inside me. Please,” I mewled.
I didn’t care that it was greedy. My body and its needs spoke louder than any good sense.