Chapter Seven
Jurek didn’t dwell too long on those possibilities, though. One never knew what was going to happen until it did, and he didn’t count his bastards before they were born. And this one seemed to be quite cozy where he was, for the moment, and he was of a mind to torment his mother.
Shifting a bit, he arranged himself so that he could use the arm on which he was leaning to reach out and pinch her nearest tender titty while his fingers claimed even more interesting territory, fluttering almost playfully over her clit, not really touching it but rather brushing it just barely, just enough to make her try to arch up to grind against his hand, which, of course, she couldn’t really do. All she succeeded in doing, really, was lifting her belly a bit, but that was about all, especially considering that he had already removed his hand, just in case.
He would control whether or not she had any pleasure, and not anyone or anything else. That was why she still slept every night with her hands bound. Her appetites had come to the forefront during these months, and he refused to allow her to experience anything without him.
But he put it right back where it had been, testing and teasing her, judging – as he had learned to do over these last months – just where she was in relation to cumming – and she always seemed to be much closer than he thought. Of course, she was still required to hold off until she had his permission, and he love teasing her.
So he settled in beside her and just continued to butterfly his fingers over her just barely, always lifting them well out of the way when she had the audacity to seek them, then returning as soon as her hips had relaxed back onto the bed. He didn’t know just how long he had done that, but it was a very few minutes before she was panting and begging – much sooner than she would have if she hadn’t been in this position. The pregnancy had sapped her strength and a lot of that stubborn will, and his repeated sessions of a frightening combination of domination, degradation, pain and pleasure kept her off kilter while the changes that her body was going through only served to add to that feeling, making her even more vulnerable to him and his cruel tendencies.
He suckled and flicked her nipples and frigged her with his fingers – sometimes fast, sometimes slow, always in tune with where she was, always moving his hand away when he thought he was getting to close to caress her smooth, untouched bottom or reach up and viciously grab the flesh of one enlarged breast, squeezing hard and delighting in her attempts to dislodge herself from his grip, that, of course, failed miserably.
Finally he dipped his fingers into her lubricant and set his hand back to claim her pussy roughly beginning to stroke her with intent.
Cassie hated how well he knew her body, how well he could control it, inspiring it to respond to him, sometimes with just a look, or a casual touch. She was completely attuned to him, never having been touched by any other man, and although he had forced her to endure some of the worst pain she could ever imagine, he had also brought her – with frightening ease and regularity – to the heights of ecstasy, which often sounded much the same.
Almost as soon as his hand found her again, she was asking, “Please, Sir?”
“Not just yet,” he cautioned, continuing to molest her, feeling that tiny nub swelling tremendously as it always did just before she came. He made her hold off for several more minutes while she moved restlessly and whimpered, fighting against herself in order to obey him, which was something he absolutely loved forcing her to do.
Eventuallly he said, “You may cum now, but quickly, before I change my mind.”
Cassie knew that that was no idle threat. She never knew how long she had, and he had frequently called the whole thing off just as she was getting going, expecting her to be able to control her reactions such that she could stop cold whenever he withdrew his permission and start again if and when he finally gave it. The problem was that when she was required to hold off, she made herself think of other things, kind of detaching herself from what was happening to her body so that her mind was no longer concentrating on what his hands or mouth were doing, and it took a little while to coax it back. But that was often what she had – just a little while, and once she’d actually gotten her head back into the situation, he would leave her, hanging there like that, and not touch her again for her own pleasure for days, sometimes while he continued to tease her and take her frequently for his own ends.
She did her best to wrangle her mind back to where it needed to be, and this time it didn’t take her very long at all to get back to that fever pitch he liked to keep her at, and then, suddenly, as her body tightened in anticipation, all hell broke loose as he threw her over the precipice as she screamed and groaned violently, trying to move like she did when she was at a much more lithe weight, only able to simulate them in the state she was in.
He continued to stimulate her, bringing her off a second and a third time in rapid succession, until he felt a rush of water against his hand, and Cassie immediately tried to peer down between her own legs. “What is it? I feel like I’ve wet myself!”
“You’re water’s broken. You’re going to have the baby, finally.”
Knowing she wasn’t going anywhere without help, Jurek got up and ran to the infirmary to fetch the doctor and the matrons she already knew, who were well trained, highly experienced midwives, who descended on Cassie like an army, getting both her and the bed ready to begin the process of delivering the baby.
No one had told Cassie anything about what was going to happen, and she had never seen or been a part of any other woman’s labor or delivery. The first contractions were bearable, but they rapidly got much worse, and she was beside herself with the pain, and no one seemed to be in the least concerned about it. She was frequently and very intimately checked, her permanently cuffed legs held apart by the Count and Jurek so that she could not interfere with what the midwives and doctor were doing. Jurek had wondered aloud if it might be better for everyone if Cassie was restrained during this process. Her cuffs and chains were right there, easily attached to the hooks he had long had in his headboard, but he was voted down, as she would need better leverage once she began to push.
Cassie knew, though, that it would have intrigued him mightily to see her – not just wearing the trappings of slavery as she was, but being severely limited by them. He wanted to make every bit of this process as hard on her and as degrading as possible. And he came close anyway. Cassie was well aware of just how blatantly owned she looked, naked and splayed, belly and breasts enormously swollen, and still – always – wearing those reminders at wrists, neck and ankle and neck that let everyone know that she was no longer in possession or control of her own body.
She screamed bloody murder with each contraction and there was some discussion about giving her something for the pain, but it was decided against, so that she would be conscious and able to push when needed, especially if it was twins.
It wasn’t a long labor, and the delivery went as smoothly as it could with a woman who was terribly frightened and quickly exhausted from the pain. She actually only had to push three times before the baby’s head was out, and the last big push expelled her completely from her mother’s body. Luckily for Cassie, it was just the one baby.
Cassie wasn’t too exhausted that she didn’t want to hold her, though, not that she was allowed to. Instead they cleaned up the baby slowly, staying in the room for only long enough to let her hear the girl cry, which would encourage her body to start producing milk. Then they whisked her away before her mother, who was craning her head to try to get a glimpse of her baby, to the nursery where she would occupy the largest and best of the bassinettes.
Cassie had heard them exclaiming over the color of the little girl’s hair, though, saying there was no doubt who her parents were. She had hoped that her offspring might have black hair or even red hair – there was a redhead on her mother’s side, if she could recall correctly, but she didn’t have that kind of luck. Cassie had been hoping that if she produced only babies with av
erage coloring, that they would let her go.
Not that she really had anywhere to go. She certainly couldn’t go home again – as disgraced as she was. But at least, perhaps she could have gone free . . .
Her hopes dashed, her baby gone before she could even hold her once, Cassie began to cry softly as she was seen to quite impersonally by the doctor, who seemed to be talking about her as he peered between her legs. “No tearing whatsoever. She’s born to breed, this one. Easy labor, easy delivery, and since I don’t have to stitch her up, her recovery time will be much less than it might be.” He turned to Jurek. “You should be able to be back at her in about two weeks or so, as long as nothing else turns up during her recovery.”
Back at her? Did he mean that Jurek was going to try to get her pregnant again so soon? Two weeks – after all that she had just gone through? Two years wasn’t enough for her! She would be very happy never to go through that horribly painful experience again, but she wasn’t going to be given a choice.
Unwilling to dwell on her future any longer, Cassie sighed and, to her surprise, fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
It took a little while but her milk did come in, with a vengeance, making her breasts overly full and extremely painful almost overnight. She was recuperating much too quickly for her own tastes. She could see Jurek, who had largely turned over his gorgeous big bed to her during this time, eying her hungrily, although he was under strict orders not to fuck her until the full two weeks was up, although she had a feeling she wasn’t going to make that marker, regardless of what Victor or the doctor said.
She leaked all over the top sheet of the bed, and Jurek wasn’t even mad about it. In fact, he seemed abnormally happy, despite the fact that that was his favorite set of sheets. He ran for a housekeeper, who would change the bed while they were gone, attached a leash to Cassie’s collar and then, strangely, tucked her hair into a ponytail with his scarf, then helped her up off the bed and took her out of the room.
He had taken her for short walks every day, not exhausting her but forcing her to get out of bed whether she wanted to or not. Cassie realized that she no longer had the baby shielding her from his punishments, so she did her best not to get herself into any trouble, although the only thing she wanted was to stay in bed.
This time, though, they ended up at a place she had never been before. She was led into a room where there were at least ten other women. One whole wall of the room had a curtain over it, but one could clearly hear the sounds of loudly crying babies coming from behind it, although there was another sound coming from the room she was in. It was a sound she recognized from when she was a little girl.
It was the sound of warm cow’s milk hitting the pail set under the udders during milking.
That should have been, but wasn’t what first alarmed Cassie. What made her want to turn around and run was the fact that all of the women in the room were naked, as she was, and on all fours on tables that were narrower at the head end and much wider at the other. The unoccupied tables were about two feet off the ground, but the ones that were in use were more like four feet high. All of the women were wearing collars and cuffs just as she was – although not of such obviously fine materials - that were attached to the four corners of the tables, so that not only could she not move an inch, but she was also forced to spread her legs very wide in order to accommodate the expanse of the foot end of the table. Their leashes were tied high up on a pole that was attached to the table above her, forcing them to keep their heads craned up at what looked to Cassie to be an awkward angle.
There were older, stout women dressed like matrons – none of whom she knew – that roamed the floor like supervisors, providing motivation here or scolding there. It was always the women she scolded for not producing enough or producing quickly enough, and the men to whom she gave gentle suggestions of some sort. Each of the women had a man standing at the end of her table, and then one to either side of her, and it wasn’t until Jurek was already patting an open table that Cassie realized exactly what was going on here.
These women were being milked, like cows in a dairy. Some of them looked as tired as she did, as if they might well have given birth not long ago, but others were quite trim and had relatively flat bellies, which told her that it had probably been some time since they had given birth. Then how was it that they were still producing milk, if no one else in this God forsaken place got to keep her baby, either . . .
Not only were they being robbed of the milk that was meant for their babies, but they were also being alternately punished and pleasured. A third sound filled the room, if one listened: the sounds of either panting, aroused females or panting, crying ones, depending on what the person who was attending their nether parts thought she needed at the moment.
But Cassie wasn’t given any time to work out the details, though. When she failed to get into the proper position on the table, Jurek whipped out a stiff leather tawse and went to work on her behind until she had complied with his wishes, stopping once she had then whispering frighteningly, “Don’t think that that’s the end of this. You need to be milked, but I will take this up again with you later.”
Her bottom throbbing terribly, and having been disciplined in front of what Cassie was quite sure was an all too eager audience, Cassie shivered in anticipation of what was ahead.
Jurek reached down and used a crank to raise the height of the table for the convenience of the milkers, then attached her lead at least two notches higher than any other woman in the room, forcing Cassie to crane her neck painfully high, not allowing her to look anywhere but at the ceiling, so she wouldn’t be able to see anything of what was being done to the rest of her body. Then he motioned to her ever present guards, who were only too happy to assist. One came around one side of the table, and the other around the other, standing just to the sides of her breasts, their big meaty fists on the table while Jurek positioned himself at her other end, right where he preferred to be.
The sounds of the babies – and probably, she was terribly ashamed to admit also the sounds of the other women being milked and either punished or pleasured – had her milk already flowing. She was spraying into the pail without the men having to touch her, not that that deterred them in the least. Each of them grasped a nipple and squeezed it while tugging downwards, which hurt terribly with each motion, yet felt good on another level as the pressure and ache within her too full breasts was relieved.
But before Jurek reached his hand between those lovely parted legs, he asked loudly, “What are the rules of the Milking Room, ladies?”
All of the women responded in unison. “Produce, produce, produce! No words – only sounds. Obey all rules, all matrons, all milkers, and all assistants.”
“Very good,” Jurek complimented in a rare moment of generosity as he donned a rubber glove, dipped it in the special viscous lube they used here for just this purpose, as some of the women could be very dry while lactating, reaching up under her to slather it generously right on top of her clit.
Then he removed his gloves and took out his cock, which had been rampant for quite some time now. This was the longest time he had ever gone without sex since he’d lost his virginity. He could have had any of the other women at any time, but he only wanted Cassie, and so he had kept himself for her. As a result, he was hugely swollen and ready to burst at any minute.
Now he knew he shouldn’t do it, but he just couldn’t deny himself any longer. After all, there she was, all tied up and unable to get away from him, displayed before him in a most enticing manner, her bottom still quite red from his efforts to get her to get onto the table. Forcing her to do things he knew she really didn’t want got him hotter than almost anything else in the world, and he knew just how much she hated her current position, and yet she was in it, being milked by two strange men, about to be soundly fucked by him.
But he knew he couldn’t get too carried away. He would have to be much easier with her than he really preferred. He adored fucking he
r hard – very hard – and watching her cum as a result of it.
So he entered her excruciatingly slowly, which he realized wasn’t so bad after all. It would force her to come to terms with the reality of the situation, which was and always would be that she was completely helpless against him. He could – and fully intended to – do anything he wanted to her.
When he had just gotten the head of his cock inside her, with a lot of thick, veined inches still to go, he reached out and grabbed a hold of the ponytail he had put her hair into before they’d left his bed room, using it to pull her head back, against the tide of how it was being craned up, and using that leverage – and the fact that she was even less able to get away from him with him in full control of her head – to slip himself further inside her.
“Ahhhhhhhhnooooooooooo!” she wailed, and he immediately moved away from her, whipping the belt from around his pants and doubling it over to lay the entire length against her backside in one tremendous stroke that had Cassie howling bloody murder. And every single stroke after that was of the same strength or harder. As he striped his way up and down her behind and the backs of her thighs, he asked loudly, “What rule did Cassie just break, ladies?”
“NO WORDS!” they shouted back at him.
Part of Cassie was mortified at the idea that everyone in the room was listening to what was being done to her, but the majority of her was trying to concentrate on not breaking that rule again, which wasn’t at all easy considering how he was laying into her rear end with that leather belt.
But through it all, those men at her titties never stopped, holding her breasts still by their torturous grip on her nipples when she was rocked by another blow. By the time he finished, Cassie was beside herself from the pain and humiliation of having been punished in front of such a large audience.
Captured by the Count: An Abduction and Breeding Fantasy Page 8