Bunny Tales: The Milk of Human Kinkiness. Pt.3.

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Bunny Tales: The Milk of Human Kinkiness. Pt.3.

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Bunny Tales: The Milk of Human Kinkiness. Pt. 3.

Half way down the corridor along which the human bovines made their way, to the left a door was opened and beside it stood another cattle wrangler. The front cow was prompted through the doorway with the assistance of the mistresses leather boot tip firmly applied to his right buttock. The other cows obediently followed. 8 began his crawl over a short width of lawn that led to the open doorway of a large, wood panelled black barn. No other entrances or windows seemed apparent and the dimmed light from within made it difficult for him to make much out, which only served to add to his mounting apprehension but undeniable arousal. This did not go unnoticed by the accompanying cowhand; “Ha! Let’s see how long you can “keep that up”, little cow!”, she sneered into his ear. 8’s erection continued to rage as the cowhand walked ahead of the herd. She stood just in the doorway of the barn and as the milk-bearing mammals approached, she ordered sternly, “Turn right and take your place at the trough!” 8 obediently crossed the threshold and turning right saw alongside the wall a long metal feeding trough of enough length for all ten cows to line up alongside each other. 8 fleetingly wondered what the fate of the other cows had been during his bondage modelling, but he soon returned to focusing on the present moment as two large ladle-fulls of what looked like oatmeal were unceremoniously “splatted” into the trough before each animal. At the same time another handler moved down the line removing the bit gags from the head harnesses. Once “dinner was served”, came the clipped instructions, “No hands. Eat like the animals that you are, and hurry up!” 8 lowered his head to the trough and began to scoop the meal into his mouth with his tongue as best he could. The food was as bland tasting as it was looking. 8 obediently lapped, slurped and chewed his way through the oat-y slop until it was all consumed; he had the distinct feeling that this would be all the nourishment he would receive until tonights dry crusts. “Here.” said a clipped voice in 8’s ear as a dog-bowl full of water was set in front of him. “Drink!” Again obediently, 8 lowered his head and lapped up the contents. The moment he had raised his head from the bowl, his bit gag was once more pushed between his teeth and strapped tightly to the harness.

Fed and watered, the herd were steered towards the middle of the barn. Along the opposite wall of the building, 8 saw ten spacious pens, separated by solid walls. This section of the building appeared to be constructed of brick and concrete; in fact it was a “re-purposed” old-fashioned style milking pen. Bolted into the ceiling of each cubicle were a number of electric winches and pulleys from which dangled an array of heavy-duty leather straps and buckles. The floor of the pens were strewn with plenty of straw, and off to the side of each pen was the equipment that had triggered 8’s desire in the first place. The milking machine looked simply imposing. Attached to a sturdy mobile trolley, sat a large chambered perspex cylinder, with rubber hose attachments affixed to two points of a fastened down lid to the cylinder. One of the tubes was transparent and ended joining a smaller cylinder with a thin rubber inner sheath; 8 knew exactly where that would go.
“OK, my lovely creatures, you will now stand and walk into the pen before you. Turn and face the centre of the barn and we’ll get you all plugged in!”
8 stood up slowly and obediently moved into the pen in front of him, turned around and glanced towards the machinery which was already being attended to by one of the handlers.
“Eyes front, little cow!” snapped a harsh voice in 8’s right ear, “There’s time enough for you to get acquainted with that; now stretch your arms to the side!” No sooner had 8 complied, sturdy, wide leather straps were placed around each of his wrists and forearms and buckled up firmly. a harness of the same material was placed around 8’s chest, lower abdomen and down around his thighs. Very quickly, he became quite disorientated to the amount of strapping that was being applied to his body, but very soon he came to understand why so many spaced out points of contact were needed. “Time to fly, my little friesian.” grinned the handler standing by a control panel built into the pen wall. With the pressing of a large switch, 8 heard the sound of clanking chains being winched mere moments before tension around his chest and thighs caused him to lurch forward into what felt like a fall. He had experienced a few sessions of suspension bondage before, so he knew how this would end. In very short order, his feet were taken away from the ground as his ankles and thighs were winched up behind him. At the same time, similar forces bought stabilising tension to his arms and wrists and the harness around his chest and trunk suddenly became as a reassuring hug as his whole frame was hoisted up until 8 was spreadeagled and staring at the straw-strewn floor some five or so feet below. “One moo for yes, two for no; does that feel secure, cow?” 8 made a clear and singular “Mooooo!” 8 managed as best he could around the ever-present bit gag.
“Good. Now then, let’s drain you dry!”

8 tried to hold back a growing erection as an offer of help with applying the milking equipment. In fact, the stiffening member turned out to be quite helpful anyway, as the tubular cylinder was placed over his dangling penis, encased within by the thin rubber sheathing. A thin strap was passed around his waist and attached to two anchor points at the base of the cock cylinder, so that any slippage due to gravity could be averted. “How now, little cow; time to give me all your milk!”
The machine had clearly been turned on as a sudden and powerful suction took hold of 8’s throbbing member. The suction seemed to increase and the sheathing tighten, as 8 felt the cylinder being drawn towards his groin. after a brief pause, the cylinder began to travel back towards the tip of his penis, all the while, the rubber sheathing maintaining a firm hold. Back and forth, back and forth went the vacuum charged cylinder, bringing 8 closer and closer to the proverbial edge. “Don’t fight it, little cow, you are here precisely to be milked.” With that, the frequency of the cylinders shuttling action increased, as did the sensation of sucking against his straining cock. Letting out an almighty, heartfelt “Mooooooooo!” 8 was taken tumbling over the precipice of his edging as an explosive orgasm ripped through his entire suspended frame. The machine operator looked admiringly at her suspended creature. “That’s the pleasurable one,” she said, “the rest; probably less so!” 8’s limbs relaxed back into the restraints after the involuntary tensing up caused by the orgasm. Up and dow, back and forth, travelled the cock cylinder. Mentally, 8 was aware that his system was trying to yield to its post-orgasm refraction, but the indefatigable rhythmic motion of the cylinder, along with the persistent sensation of hard suction to his cock, refused to let his member relax. 8’s heart rate increased suddenly and he became aware of another climb to the edge. In just a few minutes another, less potent but still shiver-inducing orgasm flowed through his hoisted frame and sent another flow of his “milk” journeying along the tubing. “Mmmmmooooo!” 8 almost whimpered, as in the immediate aftermath of his second orgasm, he realised that the sheath around the pumping cylinder made his shaft feel hyper-sensitive. Now he hoped that the cylinder might reduce in intensity, as his handler approached the controls. Hopes of any respite faded as the cylinder almost doubled in speed and intensity. 8’s cock rode that fine line between orgasmic expectancy and mounting discomfort. “Come on, little cow; you’ve hardly begun!! Milk! Milk!” For one brief moment, 8 played back the events of the past day. Imprisonment, humiliation, beating, bondage and now intense milking. The thought of another five days of the same relentless regime was enough to spur his by now sore cock into yet more growth. The next orgasm came suddenly and with significantly less enjoyment, as his tender tip sent spasms of painful ecstasy coursing through his system.

8 soon lost all track of time. The controls of the cylinder were eventually toggled down to a steady slow speed, but the suction kept constant pressure from the sheath all around his cock. The overworked nerve endings around his crown caused frequent jerks from 8 as he tried in vain to escape the torturous pulsating. Every now and then, he would sense another increasingly feeble orgasm building, until they eventually felt as if no fluid was yielded. “Ok, little cow. Time for your cell.”
“Mooooo!” 8 gratefully exhaled.

Epilogue

Two weeks later, as Bunny collected his daily post, one envelope caught his eye. The postmark was Gladechester. Eagerly he opened the envelope, unfolded the plain, typewritten letter and read:

How now, Little Cow?
You were a very compliant creature, and it was our absolute pleasure (as well as right!) to incarcerate you and drain you dry! You may return again by appointment as and when you can.

That was it. No signature, no polite signing off. Bunny caught sight of himself in the full-length hallway mirror, untucked his shirt and pulled down his trousers. Glancing at his right buttock, the sight of the large branded 8 in his flesh, elicited both a wide smile, and a heartfelt “Mooooooo!”

The End.

Bunny will return! :hi:
"There is something comforting about being tied up" (Madonna).....Oh how I agree!!

"I've still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission." (HAL 9000)
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Shannon SteelSlave
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Re: Bunny Tales: The Milk of Human Kinkiness. Pt.3.

Post by Shannon SteelSlave »

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Bondage is like a foreign film without subtitles. Only through sharing and practice can we hope to understand.
A Jedi uses bondage for knowledge and defense, never for attack.
I am so smart! I am so smart! S-M-R-T!....I, I mean S-M-A-R-T!
👠👠
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