As I stood in the milking parlour my mind raced with anticipation. My hands were tied, spread apart, stretched above my head. With ankle cuffs also holding my feet about a metre apart I was almost at full stretch and my shoulders and hips were beginning to ache. Being nearly 2 metres tall I couldn't quite see my face in the short mirror but I could feel the drool coming from my wide open mouth; my jaws being held apart by a large spider gag firmly strapped to my head with a rope attached to the ceiling holding my head up. That and the fact that I was wearing a rather tight and heavy posture collar meant I couldn't look down so had no idea what may happen to my already throbbing cock...
I am a semen slave on a farm and my sole purpose is to provide seed for artificial insemination. I am milked several times a day... every day, without fail and am expected to produce good quality sperm for sale on the IVF market. I am owned by the farm. If I don’t, or can’t, then my usefulness will be limited and will be sold into the prostitution market for use as a male arse or blowjob machine for rich, stinking, fat men; so we are all keen to oblige and do our best.
Milking is usually carried out by one of three maids. Their sole purpose in life is to get as much out of each of us as possible. They are all stunning and wear provocative and revealing clothes to keep us interested. They only ever use their hands as they are not allowed to risk losing any of the produce by swallowing or leaving any inside their cunts.
When we’re not being milked they will tease us by visiting the stable, bending over and showing us their moistness or standing and masturbating in front of us. We, of course, cannot get to our cocks as our hands are restrained. We are positioned so we cannot even rub our hardness against anything to bring us off. The frustration is unbearable and we long for release which is normally quick and painless.
That morning I had been led to a different room that I’d not seen or been in before in my 14 years on the farm. The maid was a different one, still beautiful and wearing a very short maids dress that hid nothing to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties. Her tits were pushed up with a cinching corset that made her waist look painfully thin. She had said nothing on the way in but I guessed I was still expected to follow her orders, albeit non-verbal. When she had finished restraining me she left the room.
I couldn’t tell how long I’d been there but it had been long enough for me to start and lose my hardness a bit. I suppose about an hour had passed but as soon as I started to go limp I heard a noise at the door and slow, steady footsteps behind me. My collar meant I couldn’t turn round. All I could see was in the mirror; a pair of legs behind me. She crouched down and felt between my legs and started to caress my balls from behind me. I could only just see what was happening as I had to strain my neck against the collar and rope. She took my scrotum above my balls by wrapping her thumb and forefinger around them - as if she was giving an OK sign - and began to pull downwards. She caressed and pulled until my sack was quite relaxed and stretched. At that point she attached a leather parachute and fastened it tight. The pain was quite severe as it nipped my skin and put pressure on my balls. I was hard again and this added to the discomfort.
I am not sure how much weight she added to the parachute but I counted nine weights being added. I guessed about a kilogram was pulling my balls closer to my feet. I had noticed, on the way in, a hook in the floor directly below where my balls were now and hoped she wasn’t going to attach a rope to that and stretch my already sore balls closer to the ground.
What had I done to deserve this? Of course, I couldn’t speak coherently with my mouth forced so wide. I tried anyway and all I got was a sigh from behind me.
The maid was in front of me now, looking up at me and rubbing my desperate cock-end between thumb and index finger. The sensation was unbearable and I thought I was going to come there and then. She was an expert and knew exactly how far to go. Exactly at the point where I felt I was going to explode she slapped my balls which made the weights swing and bang against my legs. This really took the edge off my impending orgasm.
“I suppose you are wondering why you are here?” she asked with a fantastically sensual Eastern European voice, steady and seductive. All I could do was nod slightly.
“You will be in here for the rest of the day until I am satisfied that you are sorry for what you have done. You will be my plaything to do with as I see fit. You have not met me before,” she said sternly and it was true, I hadn’t, “but you really don’t want to again.”
I knew why I was here now. Two nights ago I had begged for release by one of the milkmaids when I was in my stable and she had teased me just too much, I was a rocket ready to explode that night. She didn’t touch me but lingered too long with her fingers buried deep in her cunt full in my gaze. She had sat with her legs open and rubbed herself almost to orgasm then plunged her right hand deep into herself up to the last knuckles and proceeded to fist her hole until she exploded onto the floor in front of me. This had been too much. My body had started to jerk in the usual rhythm of coming and sent three or four shots of cum across the stable and some had landed in her hair.
This was not allowed. It had not happened before as we were normally capable of withstanding such provocation. What had made it worse was the fact that my spunk was in her hair. I thought I had not been discovered but I guess the mistresses would have been able to smell me on her and assumed the worst.
“Your actions the other night with number 43 are inexcusable.”
Number 43, I thought, how many are there?
“Your cum is ours, not yours to do with as you please. For this you owe us at least one further load on top of what you must give today.” She looked me up and down and then dealt me a blow. “I will keep on milking you until I am satisfied you can give no more. The first three samples of your cum will be thrown away and you will then produce enough to replace it and that which was wasted.”
FUCK, I thought. I was now frightened. I was used to producing four or five good samples a day. That meant she was going to make me cum at least eight times, probably without respite or recovery time in between. She’d have to be ruthless or good or both. I was going to hurt and I knew it.
“But first, I am going to teach you who’s cock that is.”
She took a step towards a cupboard and opened it. I could see all manner of tools and devices in there; whips, canes, paddles, clips, ropes, gags, weights, hoods...but it was what she brought out which made me wince.
First, she took a steel ring which split in two and mounted it around the base of my cock behind my balls. As she tightened the screws I could feel the blood flow being restricted to my cock. By the time she’d finished tightening the blood would not be able to enter, or leave my cock easily. I was going to be hard until she released me. She explained that there was a slight bulge in the bottom of the device which would allow semen or piss to travel through my urethra so there was no need to take this thing off until she was finished with me.
As she rolled the shining pinwheel along my exposed glans I flinched and tried to get away. She pressed harder and rolled faster, as if she were grating cheese. She moved to the underside of my cock and sent the pins rolling from the base of my shaft to the tip of my shining head allowing the sharp points to enter my pee hole. This was unbelievably painful. My cock was so hard and my skin so tight that the slightest touch caused pain. This torment lasted for several minutes with her alternating between soft rolling to hard, almost skin breaking pressing and twisting.
I was making all sort of noise that I couldn’t control but my protests went unheard. In fact, they seemed to make her more sadistic, cruel and ruthless with my raw cock. I already knew whose cock it was and it wasn’t my fault the milkmaid had made me come.
“I think you need a bit of time to recover,” she said after about ten minutes of torment with me nodding as much as I could so she understood. With that she put the pinwheel to one side and stood, almost in contemplation as to her next actions.
She knelt down in front of me with her mouth right next to my aching cock. I could feel her breath on me and longed for her to open her mouth and take me in. Was that against the rules in here? It was getting thrown away after all. But, NO. Her intentions became very clear. She had picked up a rope and began working with it beneath my balls. She had attached one end to the hook on the floor and the other was now attached to the ring on the bottom of the parachute. I tried to lower myself as far as I could. This had been a mistake as, every time I lowered she simply tightened the rope to take up the slack. This meant I was now my own cock weight. My legs were slightly bent and if I tried to straighten them then the pressure I felt in my testicles would stretch them beyond my pain threshold.
My eyes were closed now, trying to concentrate on keeping my legs bent as much as my arms would let me. Basically, I could not move AT ALL; my cock was in more pain than I could have imagined; my balls were being stretched towards the floor.
About half an hour had passed before I heard her come back in. My senses were heightened but I was about to lose three of them. The hood that she put over my head had pads where the ears and eyes should be with a cinch at the front to keep my nose closed. Only my mouth was exposed. I could feel the straps being tightened and my skull was being compressed. She had fed the rope from the top of the gag harness through a hole in the top of the hood to allow her to secure my head to the ceiling once more.
I could see nothing; smell nothing; and hear very little. What I could do was taste (not much use) and feel. They say that your remaining senses are heightened when others are deprived. I was going to find out by just how much.
I could not hear here moving around me but the next feeling was surprising. I could feel her lips gently caressing the head of my cock which was still VERY hard and pained due to the devices attached to it. Her tongue flicked the slit and she pushed it in and out as far as she could go.
FUCK ME, I thought, I am actually enjoying this. I hadn’t EVER had a blowjob in my life and had no experience of it other than what I’d seen on the internet as a young lad. I had never even had sex as I was brought onto the farm as a young man when I was 12. I worked as a hand around the farm without actually knowing what was done there and what sort of ‘animals’ they kept. The milking hadn’t begun until I was 16 as it wasn’t deemed healthy enough until that age.
Her lips now covered my entire glans and started to run down the length of my cock. I had no foreskin as I’d been circumcised very early on so all I could feel was her soft, warm mouth. Her head moved back and forth with varying speed until I was ready to come. I could feel it burning in my body and was almost there. My body was shaking uncontrollably now which made the rope holding my balls down tighten. This seemed to stop the moment and bring me back with the pain. Was I ever going to come? This was a cycle of pain and pleasure that could go on indefinitely, or so I thought.
She stopped suddenly, withdrew her mouth and twanged the rope so the weights rattled and caused a searing pain to shoot up into my stomach. I felt sick. I could feel the saliva from my drooling mouth stream out of my mouth and down my chest. My jaw was aching badly but I could not swallow.
There was a clicking sound in my ear and all of a sudden I could hear again. Her now amplified voice was in my head again.
“Was that nice? Did you nearly come several times? Are my lips and tongue good at their job?” she asked seductively, almost whispering. I couldn’t answer but tried to speak.
“Aaannngh,” was all I could say.
“Good! I think you are nearly ready to start paying your dues. You are fucking hard and on a knife edge down there. You are going to serve me as I wish,” her electronic voice filling my ears, “but I need to make sure YOU are sure that the lesson is learned.”
I was sure, oh yes, I was sure. How could I convince her of this without being able to move or show her with my eyes. I felt the pressure in my balls reduce. She must have relaxed the rope between the floor and my balls.
“I need you to be able to move a bit. It’ll help me help you. Now for this...”
Click. My ears were almost deaf again.
The sensation around my cock was new. It felt like a warm, wet cloth being wrapped tightly around the shaft being pushed onto me until it was right up against my stomach. I could feel flesh at the top of my legs. Was she fucking me? Fuck, I hoped so. If she wasn’t then that’s what I imagined she was doing. I thrust my body back and forth within my limited movement to maximise the penetration and sensation of almost pulling out. She was pushing against me and I could hear slight whimpers from her as she satisfied herself with her moist cunt rubbing every part of my massively engorged cock. I was going to come so fucking hard she would be blown against the mirror with the force.
“Aaaaaaaaarrrrhhhh...” The cum flowed from my cock in gushes about a second apart. I felt each jet leave my glans and splash against her cervix. Three, four, five...a small rest and then six, seven more. The release in my body made me go limp. She hung on my cock for a few seconds then withdrew. The sensitivity was heightened and I winced with pain at this.
“Now for the main part of your punishment.” I only just heard her through my muffs.
A cold liquid was poured onto my cock then she started wanking me and rubbing the lubricant all over my swollen glans. She wanked hard and fast. It felt like her hands were covered in sand paper as she stroked and squeezed. Relentlessly she did this, ignoring my pleas to stop. My body shuddering and trying desperately to get away from her torments.
Why was she doing this? What did she hope to achieve?
This was pure fucking torture that I couldn’t escape from. The pain kept on getting worse until I thought I was going to faint. I started counting the tugs to try to take my mind off the pain.
40, 41...124, 125, 126. I lost count. About ten minutes later she slowed and reduced the pressure. The pain subsided slightly but she kept on going. I felt a new orgasm building up in my stomach. This time she must stop afterwards, mustn’t she.
Maybe five minutes later I came again. The orgasm wasn’t good as the pain was unbearable but, my body betraying me, I shot out some weak, watery spunk in about three spurts then the orgasm subsided.
Click.
“How was that?” she said in a jeering tone. “I must say, you held out well. Not many people can take it so long and manage to come again.”
Fuck yes I held out well. You are a cunt with a cunt which must be dribbling with cum from the first one, is all I could think as I settled down, expecting release back to the stable. Then it hit me, there were at least six more orgasms required before I’d get away. I’d been here what felt like about three or four hours up to now. Did she think she could get more today?
“Right. That was sample number one. I have discounted the second one as it was too weak to be considered good. That pays for the one you wasted on number 43. You will now produce your daily quota and I expect them to be good quality. You will have ten minutes to recover between samples and I will continue until your quota is reached and the extra samples given satisfactorily.”
I resigned myself to the fact that I was in for a very long and painful day...