Dairy World (Open to all)

[Annisthyrienne]

How to write in this thread: This thread is different from the normal type of role play stories here. It is an open thread; feel free to post here with your characters, stories, etc. It is not necessarily the usual 'two or more characters interacting in a story'. It is more of a world setting in which role plays and solo vignettes can take place. That said, feel free to strike up stories within this setting with any other characters or posters here.

Although I am posting this initial post, I may or may not contribute to the thread beyond this. I anticipate I will write solo pieces for this setting from time to time as my free time allows, and may even engage with other writers in a short scene or ongoing story from time to time. But do not feel that this is 'my' thread. It is open to all those who enjoy lactation/ nursing/ suckling/ breastfeeding fantasies. Read the opening post so that you understand the world setting, and then jump in. Write about any aspect of the information I've covered, or add to the world setting with your own details of a particular sub-setting. I know that the main focus of the subject is not sexual intercourse, but that could be part of your scene if you wish. I only ask that you try to incorporate the main subject of lactation/breastfeeding in some way.

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DairyWorld
The situation:

It is the future and a worldwide epidemic of mad cow disease has caused humans to rethink the idea of using bovine milk to feed human beings while letting human milk producing potential go to waste. Humans outnumber cows many times over, and of the total population of humans, 51-54% are female. Each female has two breasts capable of producing milk, and the average span of time that a female human could produce milk lasts from about age 15-16 to well into their 40s. That's a lot of milk potential!

When the outbreak of Mad Cow disease occurred, several thousand people worldwide got sick and most died from it. That is when it finally hit home that drinking the milk of another species - an animal, no less - when we could make our own milk for our own species, was simply crazy. The world's attitudes changed dramatically in many ways.

Attitudes:
In some ways, a woman's value to society has been enhanced, but it's still based on physical traits. Women are seen as providers in society. They literally provide food and nourishment for the populace. However there are differing attitudes in different strata of society. In large progressive cities, the attitudes are more 'proper' than in rural areas. The rural attitudes are more down to earth, informal, and natural, while the attitudes in larger modern cities are more corporate and structured.

Donations: Since a woman's body can supply milk in accordance with the demand, women are encouraged to donate the excess whenever possible. Excess would be whatever is over and above what it takes to provide for her own family, or, if her occupation is in the dairy industry, then whatever is not taken at her job. The build up of excess milk in a woman's breasts occasionally causes a feeling of fullness, even discomfort, and for this reason, 'relief/comfort stations' are provided in the same way as public restrooms are now. The difference is that they are not tucked away in private, as relieving the pressure by donating your milk is not considered anything dirty or offensive to the public. Rather instead, it is looked upon with approval.

Technology: The dairy business is huge! Women are employed and paid handsomely for the milk they can provide. Hormonal and chemical enhancements allow women to provide milk constantly, even when they are not pregnant or have recently given birth. Their milk is collected via sanitized milking machines, and the women really only have to show up, hook up, and let themselves be milked until they sign out at the end of their shift. Their milk is graded according to quality and 'vintage' and is marketed accordingly. Their compensation for the milk they provide is also structured according to the quality and 'vintage'.

In some poor countries, families who struggle to make their way are known to sell or 'lease' their daughters to the dairy factories in exchange for money to live on. These milk producers are not so fortunate. Their lives are little more than indentured servitude.

In large communities within the more civilized countries, automated donation stations are placed throughout the city, on sidewalks, in malls, public buildings, etc. Some of these automated machines are set up as vending/donation machines. The woman who makes use of one of these stations is given the option of donating her milk or being paid for it, or even having it vended back to her in a plastic container like a bottle or a plastic baggy similar to a blood donation bag.

If she opts to donate her milk, it is collected in a large tank. This milk is then donated to homeless shelters or food banks. This is considered the lowest quality milk product because what is donated is simply stored in the same tank as all the other donated milk. Because of this, it is considered slightly less sanitary than the milk produced by large dairy corporations. And is not considered marketable. This should not be construed as meaning that the machine collection is in any way unsanitary however. The machine sterilizes all the parts that come into contact with the woman's breasts in between each donation. In addition, the milk is tested for drugs or disease before being added to the collection tank or vended back to the woman who donated it. In the event that drugs or disease is detected, an alert sounds and the milk is routed to the waste drain, leading to the sewers. When this happens, it is an occasion for severe embarrassment and shame, similar to the feeling when your credit/debit card is declined at the checkout, or you find you haven't enough money to pay for what you've bought, and have to ask the cashier to take some of the items back. To find out that your milk is unhealthy in any way is a cause for shame.

Breastfeeding: Children- This is now considered the most normal, beautiful thing a woman can do. There is no more stigma attached to a mother feeding her own child from her breasts. However, it is something of an exception to the general attitude that milk should be collected under sanitary conditions only. Taking it 'directly from the tap' as it were, is not normally considered 'sanitary'.

Between Lovers- What happens in the privacy of the bedroom is also an exception, but it's something that no one really talks about, like swallowing cum.

Breastfeeding Prostitution- Because of the social taboo, there are inevitably those who want to engage in the act just because it is 'taboo'. And so the institution of breastfeeding prostitution has arisen in society. The organized versions of this are like 'speak easy clubs' of the Prohibition Era; places a customer (male or female) can go to 'drink from the tap'. And of course there are the 'private cows' who sell their wares independently or through a pimp.


Breast size: Just as now, breast size is a turn on for many people. There are some differences though. Bigger is still better, for most people. But this is because it is believed that bigger breasts could produce more milk. The hormonal and chemical process that induces lactation also increases breast sizes, and some women become milk producers in part for this effect. However, artificial enhancements (Silicone or saline implants) are frowned upon, and considered trashy. The belief is that it interferes with the ability to produce pure, quality milk, and thus is undesirable. In addition, piercings or tattoos are considered as self mutilation and are frowned upon.

Because women began taking the hormonal/chemical lactation enhancement when it first become available, those women have now given birth to a second generation of daughters who are also affected by the hormones their mothers took. As a result, breast size in general has increased in the population on overall average. Typical average breast size now is D (modest) or DD up to H (Large, but not extreme). As it always was, too big is just awkward and hard to deal with, but now, a C cup or below is considered small, perhaps even underdeveloped.

Milking Celebrities: There are celebrities who produce milk too, and their 'vintage' is very much in demand, not because it is any better, but because of the novelty of having milk from a famous source. There are two kinds of milking celebrities: those who are celebrities who happen to produce milk, like movie stars or sports heroes, and then there are the people who have gained celebrity status because of their milk producing qualities. (Longest producing milker, most milk produced in a day, etc.)

Vintages: As mentioned before, a woman's vintage comes into play as to how much her milk is in demand. This has to do with diet, physical conditioning, age, and lifestyle factors. In general, the milk produced by younger, healthier, attractive women is more in demand than older, less fit women.

Status symbols: The very wealthy like to show off their affluence by having their own private stock of 'cows'. They may spend large sums of money to have their own private milk supplier or even a whole 'herd'. Usually they like to show off by having their 'cows' on display, following them around wherever they go in public, or having private parties where they show off their wealth in the form of fresh milk for their guests.

Eco-hippies: In rural communities, and in very liberal bastions there are communes where milk is produced naturally, due to pregnancy or recent childbirth, and is often 'taken straight from the source'. In these communities, it's not considered a vulgar or unsanitary practice. It's considered 'all natural' and wholesome. It is not uncommon to see even adults breastfeeding from the women in their communities. And the women in these communes are proud to be able to 'feed' their community. They will often get pregnant again if their milk supply should run dry just to be able to continue to feed their friends and neighbors.

In country and farming communities, it is also common to 'drink from the tap', and is not considered the least bit unsanitary. Also in these kinds of settings, hand milking is very common too. The attitude of it being unsanitary to drink milk straight from the breast is something largely promoted by the dairy corporations because it takes some of the milk production out of their hands and reduces their profits.


Common practices: Because a woman's breasts are now so highly regarded simple things like clothing styles have changed. Garments with open fronts and plunging necklines are more common. Also halter style tops that can be easily lowered or removed are all the rage. Some women even choose to go topless altogether, and this is as commonplace as it is now for men. The reasons are practical. To engage with a 'relief station/donation machine necessitates baring the breasts and applying the milking cups to get a good seal. Bras are still worn for support, especially for larger breasted women, but they are open cupped on top, and the breasts are supported as if in a cradle or on a sort of shelf, not enclosed and immobilized. For the wealthy, who like to show off their 'cows', open cupped bra-like tops are what are normally used to display their treasured possessions. For prostitutes, any manner of dress or even completely topless is the normal attire.

 

[justabrick]

Scott Cuttington ringed his hands nervously. The millionaire bachelor had been waiting 20 minutes after the agreed-upon time for his milk dealer to bring his fresh arrival of 'cows', for Scott's perusal. While most men of his kind preferred a woman who was able to provide a large quantity of milk, through an ample bussom, Scott preferred quality over quantity. This usually meant a smaller woman, though certainly not necessarily- the milk had to be tasted to know for sure. His private collection included regular contributions from established, well-known providers, as well as fresh, untasted sources. From what Scott had been told, a fine combination was to be included in today's sampling.

 

[SweetYuuki]

Decided to get in on some'a this action

Name: Darlene Flannagan
Age: 18
Hair: Dark red
Eyes: Light blue
Height: 5' 4"
Weight: 90 lbs

Appearance: a bit malnourished and rough-looking. Under all the hardship, dirt, and visible bones, she could actually be quite cute. She has pretty big eyes and full pink lips. Her hair is kept very short except for her fringe, which is the one luxury she allows herself. She has never owned or worn makeup of any kind and still doesn't as it is too expensive. She is very, very thin(see malnourished above) and doesn't have much in the way of breasts. The only clothes she owns are her work uniform, a bandanna, a pair of sneakers, an old dirty pair of blue jeans, an old blue halter top that barely fits anymore, a pair of flip-flops, an old jacket she got out of a church charity box, and three pairs of underwear.

Bio: Darlene had never been well off, or even middle-class for that matter. She and her family had always barely gotten by on what they could. But there were always times when she went hungry or dirty or sick or barely clothed. Before the disease outbreak that killed so many people, her father's family had been dairy farmers. What little livestock didn't die had to be sold to stay above water. It all went downhill from there, each generation poorer than the one before it. Darlene and her family lived in a shack that was always within an inch of being condemned and even with both she, her mother, and her brother working, they never seemed to make ends meet. Her mother started working as a breastfeeding prostitute shortly after her brother was born. She made much less than other women in her profession because of the poor quality milk she produced, but it was better than nothing. When Darlene was ten, she started mowing lawns, cleaning houses, babysitting...really any odd-job she could do. When her brother turned ten, he followed suit. Even when Darlene and her brother were old enough to get real jobs, they could never find work. It came to pass that as soon as she turned eighteen, her parents packed up her few possessions and sent her on her way. She walked as far as she could for days on end, going from place to place, town to town, city to city looking for work. When she finally landed in the biggest city she'd ever seen, she managed to find work at a seedy breastfeeding brothel that masqueraded itself as a nightclub. She wasn't a cow though, only a janitor. She was deemed too small and unattractive for that kind of work...

 

[MisterChino]

Hank's 100% Organic

OOC: Like Annisthyrienne, I don't really plan to commit to a long-term roleplay in this thread, but we never know. I want to contribute to the well thought out "world" and foundation for story lines in this thread. I wanted to use this thread to explore my writing abilities as well as my ability to interpret macro-themed stories of others. Thanks to Annisthyrienne for developing this. I hope you all enjoy. If any of you are interested in roleplaying this story or would like to use me for character/story development, please feel free to PM me.

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The market for pure, organic breast milk, otherwise known simply as Pure, is developing. With an increasing amount of consumers and the relatively small number of suppliers compared to the suppliers of the "normal graded" product that is usually consumed by a majority of the populations around the world, Pure is quite hard to find and needless to say expensive. Suppliers are often billionaires who can afford to invest in such an operation, however there has been Pure suppliers who have been making a name from the "eco-communities." There are also many impostors for the pure, organic commodity. These impostors range from the large corporate producers to local, small-sized operations. The impostors provide what is already normally available in the market as opposed to what they advertise. Sometimes this is unintentional; those claiming to produce the pure substance simply do not understand the process involved or what the international standard is for pure organic, breast milk. Most of the time, impostors "water-down" small amount of the pure substance; this method is both unsanitary and immoral. Furthermore, the taste and quality of the pure substance becomes degraded giving its consumer a false impression of what Pure actually taste like. Indeed, it had been quite difficult to find a Pure supplier.

Hank had recently made a name in the Pure market. Hank, a 57 year-old "veteran" of the breast milk industry, had held almost every job involved in the industry. From breast milking station mechanic to eventually working in the Research and Development department of a large firm, Hank had become quite knowledgeable in the trade. "Retiring" from the corporate lifestyle, Hank disappeared into the rural setting, living amongst the eco-hippies. It was at a small trailer park community where Hank is currently taking residence, and where Hank can usually be found smoking a joint. As the saying goes, "do not judge a book by its cover," Hank ran a small, local operation for making Pure behind the scenes. Despite his products' vintage status, the ability to "tap" into his supply and purchasing from him was very difficult. In order to purchase Hank's products, the consumer who have had to know one of Hank's entrusted distributors or receive a special invitation from Hank, himself. Hank's operations were held in secrecy with the fear that he would simply be silence by competing suppliers or silenced by the larger producers. Aside from his distributors and select neighbors who knew about the operations, Hank was just an ordinary man enjoying his retirement.

 

[MisterChino]

Making Pure and Hank's "Cows"

Making Pure was not for the faint of heart. The process was very labor, material, and time intensive. Many entrepreneurs wanting to stake a claim in Pure often fall out as quickly as they get in, unable to grasp the dedication and patience involved with the trade. Before, getting into the process of making pure, it is important to understand the international standard for pure. The international standard defines Pure as breast milk produced by a human female without the aid of supplements, boosters, or any genetic alterations that may enhance or degrade quality and/or quantity of milk. The definition does not allow for liberal interpretation. However, the standard can be refined and become more specific depending on the particular country, state, niche clientele, and supplier. Furthermore, there are also international guidelines for producing pure. First and foremost, an individual must obtain a license for producing pure; in order to obtain said license, the individual must pass a written exam as well as passing a "field-exercise" where the individual demonstrates their knowledge with the various aspects of breast milk ranging from price setting to manual milking. Once certified, the license is valid for 4 years, while the certified individual's name is listed on the international database (this database is classified and not available to consumers unless it is requested for legal proceedings) of Pure suppliers. Second, the Pure suppliers are inspected on a monthly basis to ensure that they meet the international standards, and that their product is within a five percent margin for their country's specific quality standard. Third, the acquisition of organic breast milk from trafficked personnel, rape victims, and minors automatically negates the product due to the illegal and criminal nature of the personnel status. Needless to say, impostors do not consider the definition nor guidelines. Punishment for these violations, however, are not severe due to the commodity being a natural human property. Both license suppliers and impostors receive a warning on their initial violation. Fines will be issued for subsequent violations; however, both suppliers and impostors are willing to accept the fines since the profit far exceeds the costs of these penalties due to the high demand for Pure. Recognizing this issue, the international community is working to develop the resolution for this problem.

Hank has been licensed for seven years now, although the start of his operations began while he was still a white-collared worker. What sets Hank's products apart from the majority of other Pure products is in Hank's process and operation. Hank's whole operation began with the selection of his females prior to their birth. This involved the studying of the female's lineage, traits, attributes, and features. After the selection of the females and after they were born, Hank sampled the breast milk quality from the mothers to receive a perspective of how the milk would taste and evolve in their offspring. Needless to say, this was very time consuming and required a lot of patience and dedication. After the signing a contract to the biological parents of the offspring - which negotiated everything from Hank's involvement to the payout received by both the parents and "cow" - Hank took a back seat ride, only checking in with the family to ensure that their child was healthy and being fed organic foods with no supplements. This meticulous plan ensured the pureness of the end-state product. As nature played it's course, once these females matured and became pregnant, Hank would return his focus to the pregnant individuals and monitor their progress. Once Hank's "cows" became ripe, they would go to Hank where he would manually milk them with his own hands. The affair was purely contractual and non-sexual, although, the "cows" are often stimulated during the milking process.

Hank's had several different Pure products; each different product representing a specific cow. The current products that Hank has in stock are "Jasmine" and "Esmeralda," naming his products after his "cows." Hank's listed products are "Alicia," "Mildred," "Jasmine," "Esmeralda," and "Patricia," all of which have been crowned their vintage status. According to his clientele, Hank's best product so far is the "Patricia." Hank's cow, Patricia, is at the ripe age of 27 and has already had five pregnancies. With her 36E-sized breasts, Patricia was a profitable cow. Each of her batches or "seasons" - 2003, 2004, 2007, 2009, and 2010 - have earned reputable remarks and accolades among Pure connoisseurs. With the market at an all time high, Hank's coveted Pure products are sold at a minimum of $150 per pint. Hank's next harvest is Mildred with her upcoming birth.

 

[SweetYuuki]

Darlene was just beginning to clean up a sink in the bathroom(they really needed to fix that broken soap dispenser that kept leaking) when one of the girls came in to use the bathroom.

"Don't use stall three. It's out of toilet paper."

"Thanks."

The girl followed Darlene's advice and went into a different stall. Darlene continued cleaning the sink and emptied the broken soap dispenser before putting an 'out of order' sign on it. She then went to put more toilet paper in stall three when the girl using the bathroom spoke to her.

"Would it be rude if I asked you why you're not one of us?"

"You mean a cow?"

"Yeah."

"Because I've never been pregnant and I can't afford the hormones that make you lactate. Ms. Carlton said I was too small and ugly for this kind of work anyway."

"Sorry. It's just that some of us were curious about it since this place has a policy against hiring women who don't produce milk. It's kind of stupid and sexist, but I guess I can't complain at the moment."

"They said that they hated losing money because the girls wouldn't use the bathroom if they saw the male janitors anywhere near them."

Darlene finished putting new toilet paper in the dispenser and locked it up. She went back to the sinks and started checking the soap dispensers.

"I've got another personal question for you. Well actually two."

"What are they?"

"Well, first, what's your name?"

Darlene refilled an empty soap dispenser.

"My name is Darlene."

"That's so cute..."

"Thank you."

"We've all tried to guess how old you are but none of us really know, so how old are you?"

"I'll be 19 in a couple of months."

The toilet flushed and the girl inside was moving around.

"Damn. We'd all guessed you at somewhere in your thirties....I guess that means I owe Deanna some money..."

Darlene gave the girl a confused look as she left the stall and started washing her hands at one of the sinks.

"Well, anyway. It was nice talking to you Darlene. I've gotta get back to work, so I guess I'll see you later."

"Bye."

Darlene continued cleaning the bathroom as the girl left and went back to the Dining Room with the other cows.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

Addiction

Annalyse was hooked. She needed it bad, and it was time for her fix.

She stumbled slightly as she picked her steps down the alley, carefully stepping over the homeless bums that sprawled gracelessly on their stacked cardboard lounges. She tried not to look directly at them, but she did notice certain details out of her peripheral vision; their grey-beard grizzled mouths, the dingy teeth, their parched, cracked lips, even their roughly calloused hands with knuckles swollen from arthritis.

And she knew they stared at her too. She could feel it; feel their burning gaze on her legs, only thinly concealed by her stockings. It was as if their stares crawled up her thighs like ants, taking the measure of her, right up until the hem of her short skirt. Beyond that they'd have to let their imaginations take over. That is, unless their low sprawled positions afforded them the chance peek higher. If so, they might just catch a glimpse of her bare sex. She shunned panties when she was this desperate.

Or maybe their preference was higher, their bleary, bloodshot eyes roaming over her 'modest' DD cup bosom, proudly showcased by her underwire corset, leaving the upper swell of her full breasts to be partially covered by her halter top. Did they know? Did they hunger for her?
Annalyse's 4 inch heels scuffed over the asphalt of the alleyway, making a pock, pock, pocking sound that echoed from the building walls in the narrow space as her purposeful stride carried her along. She was making her way towards the little cafe on 43rd street. There she'd find what she was looking for, what she needed so very badly.

As she approached, she could see that there were patrons at the cafe. Yuppie couples occupied the seats at the little bistro tables, sharing the shade of the umbrella canopies and sipping their lattes or frappes or whatever their beverage of choice. She hadn't imagined that she'd have privacy, and in fact there was a little part of her that was glad they would see. Was it self loathing? It was only mid-morning - the sidewalks were heavily trafficked with people still on their way to their jobs - and yet this was already her second time today.

She stepped closer to the station, glancing around a little hesitantly. Her fingers trailed over the bared upper rise of her breasts, absently acknowledging the fullness she felt within. She gave no thought to how much she actually produced anymore. It didn't matter to her. Maybe she even surpassed some of those celebrities who were hailed for how much they could make. But it wasn't fame she sought.

She slid into the plexiglass booth and straddled the motorcycle styled padded seat, facing the machine. The now familiar words, 'Manhattan Bureau of Human Services' were stenciled on the console just above the operating instructions. But she didn't need to read them anymore. She knew what she was doing. Her hands rose to the nape of her neck, tugging loose the strings of her halter top as she glanced around once more at the people enjoying their drinks only yards away. A few of them watched her curiously, though it was a common enough sight these days to see a woman donating her milk for the homeless and indigent.

Her slight blush of modesty barely showed pink upon her cheeks as she let her top drop in front of her and leaned into the machine's pneumatic pressure cups. Her hands cranked the control knobs, adjusting the cups to the perfect distance and orientation apart for her breast before leaning in close. She cupped her breasts from underneath with her hands, allowing the brief touch of her thumbs to rub over her already leaking nipples. Her turgid buds were still a little inflamed and sore from the last time, just earlier this morning, but she needed this now, and wouldn't wait. She guided her plentiful mammaries into the pressure cups, and then fine tuned the controls for the suction bulbs to center over her areolas and nipples. When she'd adjusted the attachments to her comfort, she pressed the button to activate the process with a wistful sigh.

The machine whirred to life, initiating the pre-sanitizing process first. She let her eyes close as the warm sting of the sanitizing lavage flowed over her breasts within the cups. In her mind she imagined the sensation as the warm saliva of a hungry mouth licking her flesh. A flash image of the grizzled mouths of the homeless bums crossed her mind's eye. Deep down inside Annalyse knew that the milk she donated would likely find its way to a shelter, and perhaps those same transients she saw on her way here would be drinking her milk. Images of the white secretions trickling down those grizzled bearded chins as they greedily guzzled her essence brought a quiet moan to her lips.

Next in the process was the compression of the receptacle cups. The pneumatics of the machine would inflate the cups around her breasts, like the automated blood pressure checking machines used to do, only this pressure would alternate between high and low, rhythmically milking her, encouraging her milk ducts to let down her precious fluids. She adjusted her position as she felt the vibration of the pump motor located under the seat. The vibration could just be felt through the padding and she leaned forward a bit more, tilting her pelvis to take advantage of the powerful vibration. She heard the switch engage that routed the air to the inflation cups and they closed around her breasts, forming a secure clasping fit.

At the same time, the suction created by the pumping mechanism was routed to the suction bulbs she had carefully fitted to her areolas and nipples. The wetness from the sanitizing lavage helped to form a complete seal and the suction began to elongate her nipples. It drew the blood forth to engorge her raspberry sized nipples almost painfully erect.

With a low throaty moan she felt her milk let down, and leaned in to embrace the machine more snugly. The moan that escaped her carried over the muffled sound of the pumping machinery to the ears of the nearby cafe patrons, who couldn't help casting curious glances her way. They had to wonder about the unusual sound coming from the woman who was engaged in so routine a process. Surely relieving the pressure felt good, but not that good.

Annalyse's eyes opened just a slit to take in the sight of the people watching her. It was part of her need; to be seen like this. Her eyes gleamed with the knowledge that these people were watching her get milked. And once again, she imagined the suction on her nipples as hungry mouths, suckling from her breasts directly. So dirty! So taboo!

Now the pressure cups began their oscillations, first inflating, then deflating -squeezing, then releasing, only to squeeze again. It was the strong knobby hands of the homeless bums grabbing her tender breasts, milking her, forcing her milk ducts to release her liquid soul. She rocked her hips forward a little more, bringing her bare clitoris into contact with the dull throbbing vibration coming through the seat. Reaching up to the dial for the pressure cups, she increased the setting, making the machine squeeze her breasts tighter. Likewise the suction bulb controller. The sharp increase in suction pulled and tugged at her throbbing nipples; an insistent, relentlessly hungry mouth taking from her!

Her head rolled on her shoulders, her eyes opening once again, this time taking in the sight of the gathering crowd come to watch this spectacle. She wrapped her arms around the control console, embracing the machine like a lover. It was the hungry mouth of her child, her lover, her family, her people, drinking from her, taking her liquid soul through her nipples and into their mouths! She moaned louder, now rocking her hips to the rhythm of the pumping apparatus under her seat. The same rhythm milked her relentlessly, taking all she had to offer. It would drain her breasts dry, even as she saturated her cunt.

The pump seemed to increase of its own volition, the noise of the machinery seemingly louder in her ears. But not quite loud enough to drown out the astonished murmurs of the on looking crowd. They were all watching; watching this woman give of herself, and get what she so craved in return. Her breathing was rapid now, eyes rolling languorously, making sultry contact at random with those who watched this show. They all suckled from her now, in her mind. She was feeding them from her very essence as a woman. She was mother to them all, lover, and nurturer.

It was close upon her now; that quickening feeling. As the suction bulbs drained the last of her milky essence from her breasts, the suction ramped up momentarily, like the way a vacuum cleaner jumps in pitch when you put your hand over the hose and nothing more can be sucked. It caused the feedback for the pump to increase the RPMs in a last ditch effort to get a little more of her.

That's when it happened.

The suction bulbs stretched her nipples taut, as if trying to swallow them! The vibration of the higher RPMs rattled to a crescendo between her legs! Her pussy contracted once, in synchronous concert with the breath that caught in her throat in one last gasp! And then.........she came! Oh, glorious ecstasy; she was cumming....and cumming! It seemed like it wouldn't stop! She cried out in her bliss! Even after she soaked the padded seat, the machine still sucked her, relentlessly, incessantly. It wanted more! She melted inside and her soul flowed through her nipples and from her cunt! But still the machine wanted more. The hungry mouths -so dirty to suck on her breasts directly - wanted more...More.....MORE!

But the machine detected no more milk was coming, and the process shut down. The suction was released; the pressure likewise, letting her go. She shuddered one last time, then lifted her head. Her hair fell back from her face, letting them all see her post orgasmic flush. The hot shame of her blush rose in her cheeks as she saw their stares. One or two of the bolder onlookers offered a crude comment. One even began clapping, applauding the show. The machine processed her donation, testing it for impurities or disease. The quality alert chime sounded, just as she knew it would. It never failed; her milk was pure, suitable to feed the multitudes.

She rose from the seat, her breasts pulling free from the machine's residual suction with a moist sucking sound. She stood, not bothering with her halter top as she began to walk away. They could see it all. Her breasts were red, her nipples and areola inflamed and swollen, puffing out still from their engorgement. Her hair was tussled. Her cheeks burned nearly scarlet with her blush.

She strode through the gathered crowd, already calculating in her mind where the next relief station was, and how long it might be before she felt that tingling pressure building within her again.

It was her shame.

It was her addiction.

 

[SweetYuuki]

It was the end of the night and Darlene felt the ache deep in her body of a long night of hard work. She was changing out of her work clothes in the locker room when some of the working girls came in. She reasoned that she must've finished early tonight to see them before they left.

"Oh, Darlene! I'm so glad you're still here."

She turned to see the same cow she'd talked to in the restroom earlier that night.

"Why?"

Darlene felt a twinge of insecurity being in the same room as so many attractive, well-endowed women. In these days, her nearly non-existent A-cup breasts were practically seen as a deformity in a world that valued women only for their ability to produce milk and children, neither of which were easily accomplished with a body like hers.

"Well, I thought it would be a nice gesture to ask you to join us for breakfast today. You know, female camaraderie and all that."

"I'm sorry, but I can't go."

"Why not?"

"I don't have the money."

"That's alright. I'll pay for your food."

"I'd feel bad if you did that for me since I don't think I'll be able to pay you back any time soon..."

"You don't pay back a gift, silly. Besides, it can't hurt to go out with friends every once in a while, can it?"

"I guess not..."

"Well, then hurry and change so we can get going!"

Darlene proceeded to finish changing as did most of the other girls. Despite her insecurities, Darlene decided to go topless that day. If her only shirt were to last until she could afford a new one, she'd have to make the sacrifice every once in a while. Once she was dressed and her things were put back in her bag, Darlene turned to look at some of the other girls. None of them were smaller than a D cup and most of them were closer to I and J cups. A few of those girls were going topless as well, which made Darlene feel both better and worse about her decision.

The girl Darlene had talked to turned to face the room, looking at each face for at least one small moment.

"Are we all set?"

There were unanimous nods and sounds of affirmation. When she felt satisfied, the girl turned to Darlene.

"By the way, my name is Kyra."

"Nice to meet you."

The girl smiled as they all left the club, Darlene following behind last to turn off all the lights and lock all the doors. Once the club was shut up, she and the other girls proceeded to a diner two blocks away from their workplace.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

.....

 

[Annisthyrienne]

 

[Annisthyrienne]