The Flower of Lanaar
Page 6
I trail off as her finger strokes my insides tenderly. "Of course I will. I knew you would be." A moment later there is a soft click as a black band is wrapped about my throat. There is a soft blink of a red light on the collar, then it goes dark. "A little monitor my dear. So I can keep track of you and ensure your body continues to work as needed." She says this softly, stroking my quim with her finger, her tone soothing me as she might some recalcitrant animal. I’m aware of this in some distant part of my mind. But I don’t care. I’m beyond it. All that exists is the tender pulse of the caps milking my breasts, the shock of pleasure as Desma fucks me.
"Nnnnnnnn yesssss," I moan. “Anything. Just…keep touching…mmmm…” My body shakes with pleasure. I arch my back, my huge milky tits swaying as they are suckled by the machine. I fuck back against her fingers, my steamy, slick channel clutching at her digits. "Mmmm! I’ll ah…I’ll be a good cow for you, Lady Desma. Oh stars!”
Humiliation doesn’t enter into it. I want it too badly. Need it so much! She beckons Sirrin, who comes forward, already shedding his clothes. He kneels behind me, his hands sliding about and cupping my heaving breasts. His cool touch is a shock, but not so much when he gentle massages my immense teats, fingers sinking in my swollen flesh and prompting my breasts to push harder that pressure that fills them into the hungry cups.
"Very good cow," Desma croons. "You will be a lovely cow for me. Why would you need to be a pirate? A pilot? When you can be here, milked by my lovely machines and assistants."
"Mmmmmooohhhh yesss," I moan as my milk gushes into the cups. "Yes, Sirrin. Am I good? Am I...good cow? Yesssss. I will stay here, Lady Desma. For you."
Sirrin kisses my neck adoringly, his lips brushing the dark plasteel of my collar. "You're lovely," he breathes as he milks me. "We can serve Desma together Zera. I always knew we should." I feel his cock harden against the new curves of my ass, the friction almost unbearable as I instinctively move against it. "I love you Zera," he murmurs into my ear.
"I love... yes... fuck me, please," I moan, making a distinct mooing groan of pleasure.
Desma removes her fingers from my clutching channel. But before I have a chance to miss them, she guides Sirrin inside of me. He groans, flushing hotly as his cock enters me once more. He begins to move almost at once, my fertile body calling to what part of him that was a man and not the machine grown by his mistress in a tank. He leans against me, his chest pressing against my back, his lips nipping and kissing my neck and shoulders.
Desma leaves us, the loving assassin, the pilot turned cow. She reclines once more at the head of the bed, sprawls there, indolent, watching, lips curled with a faint smile of satisfaction. She stretches out her arms as the two shapely girls crawl to her, drawing their curvy shapes against her. Idly she strokes the swell of their bums, her fingers buzzing through their holographic skirts. Both moan, wriggling against her, their swollen breasts dribbling sap. They lean up, lovingly sucking at her fat nipples. Desma purrs, letting her head fall back, but never looking away from me. Me, fat breasted and leaking milk, fucked by her assassin, collared and teats clutched by her sucking devices. She sighs, curling her toes in delight at her victory, grinning as I wail and cum.
END