Big Sky

by Kitty Thomas

  His chuckle was condescending as she worked herself over, drawing a deeper blush from her. “Frieda might want some milk, too. Will you let her drink from you?”

  The question caught Veronica off guard, but she was so aroused, that the idea of Will’s wife milking her as well sent another surge of lust through her. She wasn’t sure if Luke was bluffing or if it might be possible that Will’s wife could know about any of this, that she might actually take milk from her breast. But she gave Luke the answer she knew would please him. The one Trish would have given.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The buzzing stopped and Luke replaced the vibrator with his mouth, lapping at her until she came undone against his tongue.

  Later that night, he put her in a chastity belt so she wouldn’t touch herself without him. She went to her room, expecting to be invited into his, but waiting for the invitation. Remembering her place, as Luke had called it. The words made her cringe at the same time they excited her. They made her angry while they made her want to surrender.

  “Goodnight, Princess,” he said, going to his own room.

  “D-did I do something wrong?” She hated the neediness in her voice. Why should she care if he wanted her to sleep in his room? She could be happy to be left alone, to have her privacy and space.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean... c-can’t I sleep with you?”

  “Not tonight. I need to update the website, and I want you to go to sleep now. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Veronica lay in bed for what felt like hours while sleep eluded her. She wanted him to want her in his bed overnight no matter how wrong that desire was.

  ***

  Morning came too soon. Veronica was barely awake when Luke rolled her onto her stomach and the needle slid into her hip.

  “Ow!”

  His large, rough hand stroked her back. “Shhh, you’re okay.”

  She was still half-asleep when he unlocked and removed the chastity belt. He rolled her back over, immediately going to work on her breasts.

  “Finger yourself until you come, slut,” he growled in her ear.

  That voice. It awakened everything inside her whether she wanted it to or not.

  When she’d started touching herself, his mouth latched around one nipple. In the beginning the idea of being milked had sounded disgusting, perverse, even. And definitely demeaning. But the more orgasms she had while he told her how he was going to make her give him milk, and the more attention he paid to her breasts, the more she wanted to give him what he craved.

  When she came, he bit down on her nipple. The pain shot a bolt of need straight between her legs, making her come that much harder. He stopped suckling and helped her out of the bed to get ready. He was true to his word about centering all her pleasure around when he was fondling her breasts. She couldn’t separate orgasms from that part of her anatomy any more.

  Before Luke, she hadn’t really liked to have her breasts touched. She didn’t get why so many women became aroused by it or why it felt good to them. Her breasts had just been there—pretty to look at, but that was all. Now it seemed they would become almost essential to her pleasure.

  As she stood in front of the closet, Veronica said, “Did you milk her?” She was afraid to say Trish’s name for fear of how he might react. But they both knew who she was talking about.

  “No,” he said.

  Suddenly the idea was more appealing. It was something different, something that made her different. No matter how much he might pretend, he hadn’t shared this with Trish. Somewhere deep inside, Veronica hoped it would give her a chance to be seen. For her. The thought troubled her and she pushed it quickly away. If she wanted him to see her and be pleased with her, did that mean she didn’t want to escape him anymore? And if she didn’t want to escape him anymore, did that make her broken?

  Luke left her to go to work while she showered and dressed. Downstairs, she found the list of chores on the kitchen table. This morning’s breakfast was big. Ham and eggs and biscuits and gravy. Veronica’s stomach flipped as she cooked, worried about how the men would act around her after the party on Saturday.

  When breakfast was on the table, she rang the bell and sat down to eat. She was halfway finished by the time they reached the table. The way they leered at her made her wish she hadn’t eaten so fast. Soon she’d be out of things to occupy her attention, and she’d be staring at her empty plate.

  “Honey, come pour me some milk,” Will said.

  Veronica looked up, startled to find the men giving her knowing looks. Her eyes shot to Luke, questioning.

  He nodded at her. “Do it.”

  She got up from her chair and took the bottle of milk and poured it into Will’s glass. When she bent, she knew the low-cut dress Luke had picked for her showed too much of her cleavage. It laced up in the front, and even though she’d pulled the laces tight before tying them, her breasts nearly spilled out.

  When she set the pitcher on the table, Will pulled her onto his lap and untied the laces, causing her dress to gape open and expose her breasts. Her breath deepened as he stared at her erect nipples.

  “Soon when I ask for milk, you’ll offer me your breast like a good girl, won’t you?”

  She moaned as he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked, then his hand slid underneath her dress and he stroked between her legs. Veronica squirmed in his lap, aware the others were watching. Jake seemed disinterested—not yet on board with the milking concept.

  But Robert just watched her, his gaze intense. “We’re glad you’re so excited about being our cow,” he said. “We all saw the video you made last night.”

  Will released her breast and she buried her head against his neck. How could they have seen it so fast? They’d been working since early this morning.

  “I emailed it last night,” Luke said.

  When Will finished fondling her, he pushed her off his lap. She kept her eyes down as she started to lace her dress back up.

  “No,” Luke said. “We want to look at them. You can pretend modesty when we go back to work.”

  She blushed but left her dress hanging open. Robert grabbed her wrist before she could make it back to her seat. “What about me?”

  He unbuckled and unzipped his pants to reveal an impressive erection. “I want to feel your wet little cunt gripping my cock. You got me all worked up squirming in Will’s arms that way.”

  Veronica, looked over at Luke, knowing even before she did it what his response would be. He just raised a brow at her and went back to his breakfast. Well, he wasn’t going to forbid it. He hadn’t strictly ordered it, either.

  Robert backed his chair out and pulled up her dress. “Straddle me. Now.” He was almost as frightening as Luke when he got that look in his eyes. But she was glad for it. She hadn’t come before Will had been finished with her. Her need was so strong now, she felt as if she was in heat. A thick, demanding cock was more relief than threat.

  She whimpered as she sank down on him. He played with her breasts while she rode him. Fucking Luke’s ranch hand at the breakfast table while the rest of them continued on with their meals was almost too surreal to accept. But she didn’t have much time to think about it before another orgasm ripped through her.

  As the last wave of her pleasure crested over her, Robert sucked and bit at her nipples, causing her to shudder violently in his arms.

  While he amused himself with her, Will spoke. “I came up with a idea on how to make a milking machine for her. Robert said he can help put it together.”

  Robert let go of her nipple. “As long as I can still milk her by hand.”

  “Luke, what do you think?” Will asked.

  Veronica wanted to hide her face in Robert’s shoulder, but that impulse warred with the need to see Luke’s reaction.

  “I don’t see a problem with that,” he said as if it were the most normal thing in the world to talk about.

  Chapter Nine

  The milking machine was finished
within three weeks. Once Luke had gotten the idea in his head about milking and drinking from her, he’d been a man possessed. He’d been religious about the hormones and massaging and suckling her breasts, never allowing her to achieve orgasm unless his mouth was latched firmly around one nipple. The guys had created a Frankenstein machine. Part milking and part fucking. It was a frightening-looking contraption that incorporated a bench for her to lie on her stomach. There were places for her breasts to be squeezed for milk, and two penetrating toys that would vibrate and drive into her repeatedly until she nearly went mad from the overwhelming sensations.

  The feeling of being squeezed by the machine for milk was painful but also arousing. Without milk, it was going through the motions, but Luke was diligent, convinced that if he was patient, he’d get what he wanted out of her body.

  Each night after dinner, Luke put her on the machine for an hour while he dealt with other things like making her list of chores for the following day and any bookkeeping or computer work he needed to do.

  Before starting the machine each night, he lubed the parts meant to penetrate her. Then he turned it on a steady speed and left her alone. A strap around her waist secured her to the bench, making escape impossible. The only thing she could do was give in. Two months into this routine, the milk came.

  Luke had brought his laptop into the playroom to work from the couch, a coffee pot plugged into the wall and a cup of black coffee in his hand. It had been his pattern for several weeks as if he didn’t want to leave her and miss it when it happened.

  It started as a tingling and pressure, like pins and needles in her breasts. Between the machine and the vibrators working inside her, it was hard to isolate any one feeling from the whole.

  Veronica writhed against the vibrating toys while she watched in fascination as the machine milked her, and the creamy liquid dripped into a glass bottle like the one in the fridge with the cow’s milk. Luke unfolded himself from the couch and approached the machine like a big cat stalking prey. He turned it off and smirked at the bottle.

  He watched her, sipping his coffee for a while, then he took the bottle off the machine and poured a bit into his cup. She watched helplessly as he raised it to his lips and took a gulp of the coffee with her milk in it. It was humiliating and arousing all at once.

  “I normally like it black, but that’s good coffee,” he said, glee plainly written on his face at his success. “Let’s find out if you taste as good from the tap.”

  She didn’t fight him when he helped her off the bench and to the couch. As the time had passed between them, she’d given up the desire for escape. She’d become too addicted to the way Luke and his men touched her and too comfortable with a warm bed, food, and shelter. The weather had turned cold, and these were important things. It was too late for her to have another life, and despite what she was supposed to want, this one satisfied her.

  Except on rare occasions when she especially pleased him and he invited her into his bed for the night, she slept in her own room. It had begun to bother her less. He didn’t call her Trish now, but sometimes when he called her sweetheart or dear, she wondered which woman he saw. As the time had crept by, it had gotten harder to obsess over the point. The only thing that mattered was the way he made her feel.

  He’d been mostly kind—only punishing her when she disobeyed him. The terrifying day at the lake became a dim memory and seemed as if it might have been a dream. He never brought it up again.

  Luke’s mouth descended on her breast and he suckled. He moaned as the milk began to flow down his throat. If she’d worried he might find the actual taste gross, the worry had been in vain. He drank from each breast until he’d drained her, which didn’t take long.

  “You’ll produce more as time goes on.” He kissed the tips of her breasts and cradled her in his arms, then he went back and finished his work. That night, she slept in his room.

  ***

  The next morning there was no injection. The break in the routine was startling, but not unexpected. Now that she was lactating, it wasn’t necessary.

  At breakfast, Will said, “I hear you’re producing milk like a good cow.”

  Veronica looked down at her plate, her heart racing, the throb and ache starting between her thighs. Involuntarily, at her arousal, she felt the tingling in her breasts and then the milk as it seeped out and wet her dress.

  “Go to him,” Luke prompted.

  She forced herself to get up from the table and went around to Will. He pulled her onto his lap as soon as she was in easy reach. Since the weather had turned colder, plastic had been put around the porch, and space heaters kept the area somewhat warm. She took her sweater off, and he pushed the thin spaghetti straps of the dress off her shoulders, eliciting a shiver.

  A second drop of milk bubbled at the end of one breast and then the other, her body already knowing what was coming and anticipating the release from the bit of milk that had built up in the night.

  “Milk them,” he said. “The best cow is a cow that can milk herself.”

  Her face burned at his words, but her hands moved to her breasts to obey his demand. She massaged them and tugged and pulled on the nipples until milk began to come out and dribble down. The ranch hand moved in and licked up the liquid and then latched on to one breast to suck.

  “Save some for Robert,” Luke said. “She’s not producing much yet.”

  Will forced himself to stop after a few seconds. He looked wistfully at her breasts. “I can’t wait until her tits are heavy with the stuff. She’ll beg us to drink from her to relieve the pressure. Freida was such a needy little whore when she was producing.”

  Veronica hadn’t been nervous about Will not liking it; he’d drunk from his wife. But Robert only found the idea hot. To her knowledge, he hadn’t actually done it. But when he tasted her, he was as pleased with the result as Luke and Will had been.

  “She’s so fucking sweet,” Robert said.

  Feeding the men like this made her feel a touch less human—more a thing or animal and less a person. It should have distressed her more, but it was too easy to get lost in the pleasurable sensations, in someone else’s satisfaction and happiness.

  Jake watched the proceedings with a disgusted look on his face, as if the whole affair were spoiling his breakfast. It filled Veronica with shame, and she wished he’d just leave, but when Robert stroked between her thighs, she was so worked up and well-conditioned that she couldn’t stop herself from coming against his fingers. Finally, he released her nipple and held her against his chest, stroking her hair. She was grateful for the comfort.

  “Come on,” Robert said to Jake.

  “No, that’s nasty. I don’t know what’s wrong with you guys. The other kinks are one thing, but... this crosses a line.”

  The ranch hand’s judgment cut into Veronica, making her feel dirty. If everyone behaved as if it were okay, it could be okay here. Her world had narrowed to the ranch and nothing else. Her ranch, her sky, her ranch hands. But with the one hold-out, she was reminded how wrong everything that was happening was. It brought back who she’d been in the city. In the city she might have masturbated to an idea this depraved, but she wouldn’t have actually done it. Would she? She wanted all of them to drink from her, to make what they were doing feel okay. If even one of them wouldn’t conform inside the fantasy bubble, it would only bring reality crashing back in all its stark coldness.

  “Just taste her, once,” Will persisted. “If you hate it, we won’t bother you again.”

  “Oh, fuck. Fine, bring her over here.”

  Veronica tensed in his arms as he closed his mouth over her breast and sucked. She expected him to immediately push her away in revulsion after a drop or two had hit his tongue, but he swallowed the milk and kept drinking. His hands tightened around her arms as he gripped her and fed on her.

  When he’d had his fill, his mouth moved up to her throat to kiss and suck, and then to her mouth, where he kissed her with a passion he’
d never shown with her. Before she could catch her breath, he picked her up and shoved his chair back. He pushed back the plastic flap and carried her to the grass and dropped her there.

  For a moment she thought he was disgusted with himself and what he’d just enjoyed. Maybe he wanted to let her freeze. Surely Luke wouldn’t let him keep her out there. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen until she heard his belt and then the zipper of his pants.

  No one stopped him as he shoved her dress up over her hips and entered her from behind. She gasped as he filled her, driving into her in a frenzied state that had her tearing at the frozen grass under her hands for something to hold onto. The stiffness of his erection left no doubt to how much he’d enjoyed feeding on her, and that he’d do it again soon.

  When he finished with her, he got up and went back to the table. Veronica pulled her dress down and rolled over, looking up at the sky. The ground underneath her back was cool and the air was chilly. The sky hadn’t quite turned that endless gray yet. Despite the cold, it still had a sharp jolt of bright blue. There were no clouds.

  “Veronica, come back inside. You’ll catch your death out there with no shoes on,” Luke said. The plastic around the porch muffled his voice, making him seem too far away to reach her.

  She stayed where she was, pretending she hadn’t heard him, looking up at vast expanse of sky. Of course he wasn’t going to give her shoes—even now. Since it had turned cold, she’d been cooped up inside, the leftover outside chores she would have had falling to Will.

  Luke still didn’t trust her. He was never going to trust her not to run. She jumped when footsteps pounded toward her, then Luke bent and scooped her up to carry her back onto the porch where it was warmer. He put her back in her chair and went to his seat.