Hucow Asstr
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Hucow Asstr
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File
name: (Milking.doc) (Mf bd nc _dom lac)
Authors name: Satyr (address withheld)
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work is copyrighted to the author © 2008.
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The unnamed narrator is invited to the Doctor's research station where he sees
some of the unusual experiments carried out there. (Mf bd nc _dom lac)
I settled myself into the big
leather armchair. A small table to my side carried decanters of whisky, brandy,
and sherries; together with a collection of the finest crystal glasses from
which to drink it. A handsome humidor and heavy silver lighter completed the
accessories. I poured myself a healthy measure of brandy into one of the large
snifters and waited.
It was an odd room, long and, at
one end, sumptuously furnished: thick,
richly patterned carpets; deeply buttoned, leather, club armchairs; and
handsome, well polished, dark-wood tables and cabinets. The lighting was
subdued, and magnificent paintings hung on the walls. The opposite end was in
complete contrast. The carpeting ended suddenly at a brass strip, beyond which
the floor was of stone flags. The walls were tiled in plain white and a long
wooden bench ran along the rear wall. Two metal rails ran across the room, one
at ankle level and the other, about three feet high, was about 18 inches in
front of the low bar. A long metal trough ran along in front of the bars, and a
series of inverted glass bottles peeped over the top of it.
We had met on the train from Copenhagen the
previous night, the Doctor and I. My secretary had booked the trip, and it had
seemed sensible to take the late train after one meeting to be positioned for my
next meeting the following day. It hadn't quite worked though. The train had
been running for about fifteen minutes when my 'phone rang. It was the man I was
travelling to see. He was apologetic: a death in the family. He was sure I'd
understand... . I did, of course, but it left me with a free day in the wilds of
a Scandinavian mid-winter, before my onward booking for my next meeting.
I'd just put the 'phone away when the train
jerked to a halt. We sat silently, waiting. After an age, the loudspeaker
coughed and an apologetic voice spoke. After a few moments, the guard spoke
again, this time in English. 'I am sorry that we have stopped,' he said. 'There
is a fault with the engine and we work to mend. Sorry for delay.'
We sat quietly, the snow brushing against
the darkened windows. I fell into a casual conversation with the man seated
opposite—the Doctor—and soon discovered that we had similar interests, and an
invitation to visit his research facility swiftly followed.
We'd finally got in just after midnight
after the State Railway had sent a further locomotive to pull the train to its
destination, so it was mid-morning when the Doctor's car swept up to my hotel to
collect me.
The research facility was a low cluster of
buildings set around a courtyard which was attached to a large house. It looked
like an old farm complex, which was exactly what the Doctor told me it had been.
The research station was set into a pine forest and was surrounded by a high
chain-link fence topped by razor wire.
The Doctor had met me at the door as his
man, Kurt, had put the car away. We drank coffee in his study before touring the
facility. He was proud of it, and we spent ten minutes or so watching the
reception procedures for a new batch of research specimens, before moving
through the labs and watching various experiments in progress.
Finally, we had returned to the main house
and this strangely furnished and appointed room. 'This,' explained the Doctor,
'is the only lab in the main house. Everything else happens in the Research
Complex.' He gestured me towards a chair, 'Let me show you my favourite
experiment. I've been running it for a few years now, and it's starting to show
good results.'
He lifted the wall-mounted telephone and
spoke a few words, listened for a few moments, and spoke again.'
'Kurt,' he explained briefly. 'A good idea
from him, but we will have to prepare the specimen ...' as he said it, the door
opened and Kurt, dressed now in green surgical scrubs, entered. He was
accompanied by a blonde, hard faced, woman, who was also dressed in greens. They
both carried short, leather cased, whips, and dragged a young naked female. It
was one of the new inductees who I'd seen earlier, brought in overnight with her
mother.
The girl's wrists were fastened behind her
back by black leather cuffs, and her long blonde hair swung loose about her
tear-stained face. She was about fourteen, but was well developed for her age.
Her magnificent titties swung either side of her slender ribs as she struggled
with Kurt and the other attendant. Suddenly, without warning, the hard-faced
woman cuffed the girl hard about the head, knocking her to her knees. Silently,
working as a team, Kurt and the woman hoisted the stunned girl onto the bench.
Straps over her chest, waist, knees, and ankles, secured her open-legged onto
the bench top. Kurt took up a large cut-throat razor, and began to scrape the
thin blonde fuzz off the girl's pubic mound, then down—gently, it seemed—between
her thighs to clear the hairs around her slit.
While he worked, the female attendant
produced and fastened leather ankle cuffs and a collar about the girl's neck and
ankles. Then, acting together, the attendants they released the now shaven girl
and dragged her to her feet before pulling her to the metal rails. Liberated
from her bonds, she tried to shoulder charge the woman, but a hefty slice across
her flank from Kurt's whip rendered her suddenly docile. She was forced to bend
and her collar was fastened, by way of a large metal clip, to the upper bar. The
threat of Kurt's whip on her bare ass persuaded the girl to position her feet
against the lower bar, to which the woman clipped the ankle cuffs, just far
enough apart to keep the girl's legs about a shoulder width apart. Her big
titties swung forwards invitingly, and I could see her cuntgash now revealed at
the juncture of her thighs.
We waited for a few moments while Kurt and
the woman went outside. When they returned, it was with a group of four naked
young women. Judging by their physiques: young firm titties and the last traces
of puppy fat, none was much over eighteen and indeed, they were probably
younger. They were a mix of races, two Europeans; a short, slender, Japanese;
and a black girl. All were naked, and all were shaved clean below. They shared
one other thing in common: they all had large titties for their ages.
Without instruction, the girls approached
the bars and stood behind them, awaiting instructions. At Kurt's approach, the
first girl, a freckled-redhead, leant forwards at the waist and let him secure
her collar to the bar. At her feet, the woman fastened her ankles to the lower
bar.
Working quickly as a team, Kurt and his
assistant quickly fastened the four newcomers. As he finished, Kurt stepped
back, giving me the opportunity to admire his handiwork. From left to right, I
saw the redhead, the black girl, the smooth olive skin of the oriental, the
brunette (a rather swarthy Greek-looking) girl, and the new blonde.
The female attendant moved to the edge of
the trough, where she fiddled with something which was out of sight. Almost
immediately, a rhythmic hissing filled the air. Kurt bent down and removed a
long hose from the trough. Towards its end, it split into two, each terminating
in a pair of long, narrow, clear plastic tubes. He approached the redhead and
gently stroked her hanging titties, before placing the open end of the tubes
over her nipples. The hissing noise lessened slightly, and the tubes stayed in
place held, apparently, by suction. Swiftly, Kurt moved to the black girl and
repeated the process. Soon, each girl had the tubes fastened to her swaying
tits, and the hissing noise had almost abated to nothing.
Kurt gestured to his female partner, who
made a twisting motion with her wrist at a control on the out-of-sight panel.
Immediately, the hissing sound deepened again, and I could see their nipples
starting to rhythmically tug into the tubes.
Suddenly, white fluid splashed into the
redhead's tubes. Quickly, the flow got faster, and soon the tubes were filled
with her milk, which began to collect in the large glass bottle before her. It
wasn't long before the other girls—except for the blonde newcomer—had milk
flowing too.
I could feel my cock starting to stir and
swell to hardness.
The Doctor settled himself into the chair
beside me. 'Hucows,' he began, then stopped. 'Human cows,' he continued, 'do not
need to have produced a child to lactate. This can be stimulated by breast
massage and by some drugs. Each of these hucows has been stimulated to produce
milk, and my research is into the relationship between body mass index, and
cultures, on the quality and quantity of milk produced. Previous research has
shown that on average, a hucow will produce about 50ml of milk by two days after
she begins lactation, to about 500ml on the fourth day. Eventually, she'll
produce about 850ml per day by about three months, each udder producing about
400ml. For those hucows in the wild, who are allowed to go clothed, they will
increase by one or two bra cup-sizes while lactating. The size of the udder will
decrease rapidly, and dramatically, once milking ceases. We know that the volume
of milk produced is a function of demand, and that the common view is that this
is not affected by nutrition or age of the producing hucow. Milk production will
drop off unless suckling—artificial, as here; or natural—is frequent and
consistent. It seems that the milk contains an inhibitor of milk production
which builds up if the milk remains in the udder for a prolonged time, thus
adequate milk removal is necessary for continued production.' He paused for a
moment and sipped his whisky before continuing. 'I aim to pump each hucow for
ten to fifteen minutes per udder every two-to-three hours, day and night. We
find that less frequent stimulation, say less than once every five to eight
hours, will result in less milk production; but some milk will be produced as
long as the hucow is stimulated at least twice a day. Less than that results in
the loss of milk between one and three weeks later. But, I find, that with
sufficient and regular stimulation it is possible to maintain a hucow's milk
production for months. I even have some who are producing lactate years after
taking their place in the experimental programme.'
Kurt's cough drew our attention back to the
tableau before us. The milking machine still hissed, but the milk had ceased to
flow. 'Yes, yes,' said the Doctor, 'I've been remiss. Kurt, yes, please
continue, but leave the new specimen for a while yet ... she'll benefit from the
extra pumping if she's to produce.'
'It'll take about four-to-six weeks before
she's in full flow, or maybe up to three months ...' explained the Doctor.
We watched as the woman attendant tugged the
milking tubes off the girls' now engorged and reddened nipples, leaving angry
red marks about their areola. Kurt produced a measuring jug and a clipboard and,
together with his female partner, they moved along the line measuring the
contents of the collecting bottles.
'Does, err, udder size have an effect?' I
asked, wriggling slightly in my chair to relieve the pressure on my erection.
'Udders are classified by the "Tanner
Scale”, which goes from I to V. There is really no minimum degree of development
in order to be able to lactate. There are well documented instances of even men
with minimal Tanner I breasts producing some milk and breast feeding without
using hormones. However, there is no doubt that the higher the development
stage, the easier it will usually be to start lactation and the greater the
likely quantity of milk produced. In general, well developed Tanner IV or V type
udders are really required for successful milking ... or nursing for that
matter.'
The Doctor paused as the female attendant
offered him the clipboard. He perused the contents quietly before rising quietly
and walking to the bar where he gently massaged the Japanese girl's now emptied
titty. The girl wriggled uncomfortably at his touch, but made no sound. The
Doctor returned to his seat. 'Number 728,' he explained, 'the Japanese hucow,
has just produced 200ml at a single milking. That's a personal best for her, and
close to the record.' He nodded towards the redhead. '746. She's got the record:
210ml at a milking, and just over a litre of milk in a day.' He stopped
suddenly, noticing my discomfort for the first time. 'My dear chap!' he
exclaimed. 'I'm so sorry: I've been remiss in my duties as a host. Please, if
you'd like to make use of one or more of the hucows ... Any orifice you'd
like—they're all broken in ... they're all skilled fellatrices for that matter
...'
I rose from my seat and began to move
towards the still tethered females.
'They often get quite wet during milking,'
called the Doctor, 'they can get quite sexually aroused, but if they're not
lubricated enough, there's gel on the counter ...'
The redhead looked good, very good in fact,
and so did the Japanese girl, but she was just too short for me to penetrate at
that angle. The newcomer though ... and this would be too good a chance to miss
...
I felt her cuntgash. As I'd surmised: dry as
a bone. Without a word, Kurt handed me a tube of gel and I liberated my cock. A
copious dollop on my knob, and more rubbed into her entrance, and I slid-in
easily, hilting on almost the first thrust. The girl squealed and bounced
forwards with the force of my entry, bringing-up short by her collar. She
gurgled. I ignored her and began to slide in-and-out, revelling in the feel of
her young, tight, pussy around my engorged dick. I wanted to reach below her
chest and squeeze her titties but, out of respect for the Doctor's experiment,
refrained: gripping the upper bar to which the girl was tethered instead.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the female
attendant lead the brunette and black hucows from the room. A disengaged part of
my brain seeing for the first time the number '722' tattooed in large digits
across the small of the brunette's back, in the very place where—in the Western
world—the so-called 'slut tag' is usually to be found. An irregular dark mark,
in the same place, on the black girl told me that this was where the Doctor put
his lab number.
At the position next to me, the Doctor
(somewhat shorter than me) carefully balanced his ash-tray on the Japanese
girl's back, before liberating his prick, slid into her wet cleft and began to
fuck her. At the end of the line, Kurt positioned himself behind 746, the
redhead, whose sighs soon began to join those of her sisters.
'This is one of life's little luxuries,' the
Doctor announced, taking a long pull on his cigar before balancing it carefully
back on the ashtray. These oriental women have marvellous self-control, you
know. 728's milking me with her cunt muscles but keeping perfectly still. She
doesn't want a hot cigar, or hot ash, on her back!'
The Doctor reached under his hucow and
squeezed her titties. The tit-flesh squeezed between his fingers. The girl
winced and wriggled, ever so slightly. The Doctor smiled in triumph, and resumed
fucking the girl.
I continued to pump at the blonde's hips, my
cock sliding in-and-out of her now greasy fuck-tube easily. I could see her
titties bouncing at my thrusts, and the milking tubes began to clack together in
rhythm with my thrusts.
'Quite a bit of suction on those milking
tubes,' called the Doctor. 'Feel free to fuck her as hard as you like, the
tubes'll stay on—they're getting enough suction to milk all of a real cow's
udders at the same time after all!'
I began to 'long-cock' the girl, sliding my
shaft in to the hilt then withdrawing until just the glans
remained inside. I could feel the
sensation building in my cock, and the spunk boiling in my bollocks. I wasn't
going to last much longer!
In the event, it was Kurt who finished
first, shouting his joy loudly and thrusting hard into his hucow, almost
overbalancing her as he embedded his cock in her slick hole. As the female
attendant led her away, Kurt thrust his diminishing prick back into his greens,
and a thread of thick spunk glistened down the inside of the redhead's thigh.
The sight was too much for me, and I jammed
my cock deep into the moaning hucow and shot my load, jerk after jerk and spurt
after spurt of hot cum jetting deep into the girl's belly.
I pulled out, hearing my knob disengage with
a loud 'plop.' An even louder rasping noise, the so-called 'fanny fart'
followed, as the excess air escaped from her cunt.
Next to me, the Doctor had finished too it
seemed. Quietly though, and with little fuss, he withdrew his cock. Absently, he
massaged the oriental girl's cuntlips and, sure enough, a thick dollop of
fuck-cream began to trickle out and trickle down her leg.
The Doctor adjusted his fly and nodded to
Kurt and the woman. 'Take 746 and 728 back to their stalls. Further milking in
two hours for them. Leave the new hucow, number err ...'
'Yes, 763. Leave her until the conclusion of
the next scheduled milking for these four then she'll join their usual rota
until her milk comes and will be part of their experiment group in the future.'
He turned back to me. 'Now, my dear chap. We
must get you some dinner then away to the train.'
As we spoke, I watched the attendants
unfasten the two girls and hurry them from the room, their now emptied titties
noticeably less swollen than when they'd arrived only thirty minutes or so
before. The milking machine continued to throb and hiss as it continued to
suckle the new girl's sore titties.
As I settled back in the car after a
magnificent meal served by the indefatigable Kurt, I mused over the Doctor's
kind offer of a return visit and a part of his new research project, the effect
on quantity and quality of milk produced by hucows who were fucked while milking
... . Now that was a research project ..!
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The author does not condone child
abuse or underage sex, nor is torture and/or other abuse of women. This story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in
reality can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the ass by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
It's okay to READ stories about
unprotected sex with others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't okay
to HAVE unprotected sex with people other than a trusted partner. There are a
number of very unpleasant diseases, some incurable, some fatal, some both
incurable and fatal, which can be contracted that way. Genital herpes is still a
fact of life! HIV/AIDS is still a real th
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