Green Bush Erotica Volume 10

Milking on the Farm

 

 

 

One

 

Luanne thought she was done with The Farm. Back in college it had been a fun and exciting way to make a lot of money really fast. She had paraded around the house in lingerie, or a French maid uniform, and sometimes even topless, working as a general servant. It was a weird world helping people who paid too much money to experience little sexual thrills and fantasies. More than once she had been asked to watch as a man masturbated in front of her. It seemed to thrill the older men that they could jerk off in front of a young woman without repercussions.

After college she had trouble landing that dream job, so she supplemented her income by working at The Farm, but this time in more intimate roles. It was sex work, Luanne didn’t shy away from acknowledging that, but it was more fun than actual work. Actual participation in helping people live out their kinky fantasies was more enjoyable than the dull office work she had landed. It paid better as well. Tying people up, humiliating them (always men), whipping and caning them, leading them around by leashes—it was all just a variation of role playing she had done as a little girl.

Eventually she was hired doing what she had spent four years in college learning. Working for the state wasn’t exciting, but it paid well, was steady, and she didn’t have to hide from family and friends what she did for all her money. It was easier in a way. A happy relationship shortly followed, along with marriage, a baby, and a house. Luanne had one of those perfect lives that was envied by so many people.

It didn’t last.

Everything fell apart so quickly. From diagnosis to funeral Jeff had only survived a little more than three months. It retrospect she realized that he had been hiding symptoms and problems for almost the entire length of their relationship. Their baby was under a year old. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was.

The loss of her husband didn’t destroy her life, but it came close. There was money enough for her daughter and to pay the mortgage and keep food on the table, but she realized almost half a year after Jeff’s death that she was miserably unhappy. She had the material things that were necessary to keep her alive but her love of life was gone.

Kim’s email came at the usual time. She sent them out every six months so as to keep an active list of occasional Farm employees. Luanne must have missed the one immediately after Jeff’s death, but this one she read. Whether she read it out of boredom or curiosity or simply because she was going through the motions of living life, she couldn’t say.

The email read:

 

Everyone,

This is a special request email to all former and current and occasional employees. If this doesn’t apply to you, please disregard.

I’ve gotten a special request for particular kink fulfillment that only a few select women will be able to work (sorry, gentlemen). Specifically, I’m looking for women who are actively lactating. You need to be able to produce at least four ounces of breast milk within thirty minutes. I need five women in one month’s time. Pay for this is the highest tier. As usual a finder’s fee will be paid to anyone who directs a new employee for this one-time job (which might not be one-time; I’m hoping for a new steady client.) Email me back ASAP if you are interested. Pass along any names as well. Thank you.

Kim

 

Luanne’s breasts were heavy with milk because Joleen was still actively nursing, but her daughter was slowly yet steadily weaning herself. As she read the email, Luanne could feel her milk letting down, even though Joleen had nursed just a few hours earlier. As a person who was always in tune with her body, Luanne knew what the reaction she had was; denying it was a waste of time. Instead, she put fingers to keyboard and replied to Kim’s message.

 

The car, it seemed, knew the way up to The Farm that stood in the middle of nowhere between rolling hills and working farm’s corn and hayfields. The roads were exactly the same even if some of the signs were different. It had been years since Luanne had driven to The Farm, and there were some minor changes. “Just follow the signs for the new winery if you get lost,” Kim had told her with a laugh. “We’re just two miles down the road from them.”

“When did that start?”

“They’ve been doing it for three years now, I think. As a commercial enterprise, at least. Apparently the family has been making wine for almost twenty years. We buy some of their stock, just to be neighborly. It’s decent stuff.”

“Do they know what The Farm…” Luanne hesitated to ask. The Farm fell somewhere in the semi-legal area of country bed-and-breakfast and completely bald-faced sex club. It was a semi-open secret among those who were on the edges of The Farm’s financial status.

“No,” Kim said firmly. “As always, discretion is our pride.”

Luanne drove past the winery, found The Farm’s driveway marked only by a pair of stone pillars, zipped down the private lane and parked in the circular driveway. The Farm was much as she had remembered it. The large farmhouse stood apart from the barn. Out behind the house was an elaborate garden and expansive lawn. Beyond the lawn were actual crops growing in fields. These were rented out to an actual farmer who maintained them, Luanne knew. The Farm itself grew nothing except erections and orgasms.

She let herself into the house and headed to the back where Kim kept her office. The owner and manager of the private club greeted her old employee with a smile, a light embrace, and a friendly kiss on the cheek. Kim looked a little older, but was perfectly put together as always. Her business suit would have looked more in place in one of the many office buildings down in the city, but Kim had a certain level of professionalism to maintain. Anyone with sharp eyes could see exactly what type of business Kim was running. A riding crop was laid on the table behind Kim’s desk, a few photographs that bordered on pornographic decorated the walls, and Kim’s suit, well-tailored as it was, showed a bit too much cleavage to be entirely professional and was slit far too high on her thigh.

“You look well,” Kim told Luanne as she settled back into her chair behind the desk. Luanne took one of the comfortable leather covered chairs across from her.

“Thank you. I can’t believe it’s been over four years since I was last here. And I can’t believe I’m back and ready to work.” She looked around the office. Except for the small hints, it was outfitted much like those in the building she worked in.

“About that,” Kim said, wasting no time. “You’re being hired for a particular skill. I need proof of that.” She wasn’t one to avoid an issue.

“Proof?” Luanne had assured her old employer she could produce as needed.

“I can’t risk losing this new client on a failure,” Kim said and reached into her desk to pull out a breast pump. It was a model similar to what Luanne used when she had returned to work and needed to express her milk. “I need to see physical proof before you’re hired.” She slid the pump across her desk.

Luanne looked disdainfully at the pump. “I won’t need that,” she said coolly. “Do you have a towel?”

Kim produced a small towel from within her desk and handed that over as Luanne unbuttoned her shirt. She had never been one to be shy about her body and had become even less modest after a pregnancy and breastfeeding. Still, Kim had seen her tits on many occasions. This was nothing new…except for her recently acquired ability.

Opening her blouse all the way Luanne reached up and dropped down the flap of her nursing bra. It was hardly sexy but it was comfortable. As her breast was exposed a slightly damp nursing pad fell onto her lap. Luanne ignored the pad and took the towel, placing in on her lap over the pad, and then grasped her breast in both hands. She glanced up at Kim who was watching with a detached professionalism. It took a few squeezes, but in less than thirty second Luanne sprayed a fine mist of milk immediately followed by a few healthy squirts that soaked into the towel.

“Very good,” complimented Kim. “You can stop now.” Luanne nodded and pulled up the bra’s flap, hiding her nipple once more. “They’re bigger than I remember.” She started to button up her blouse

“Pregnancy and breast feeding will do that,” Luanne said.

“Don’t I know it,” agreed Kim.

The statement caused Luanne to blink in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Kim deliberately brought up her hands to cup and lift her breasts, carefully rearranging how her flesh was on display. “I know it’s been a while,” she said, “but I think I’m bigger than when you were last here.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t spend a lot of time looking…”

A broad smile crossed Kim’s face. “Well, it’s my job to make sure appearances are kept up. It was your job to make the clients happy. That being said, you and I are in the same boat, physically speaking.”

It took Luanne a moment to comprehend what Kim was hinting at, but then realization struck her. She passed in buttoning her shirt. “You have a baby?” Luanne was floored.

“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Kim commented.

“Oh.” Luanne didn’t know what to say to that. “You look good. Your body hardly looks like it changed.”

“Except for these,” said Kim, adjusting her tits again for good measure. “And my belly isn’t as flat as it used to be. Plus I have stretch marks.”

“Tiger stripes,” Luanne corrected her.

“Right. Tiger stripes.” Kim paused and changed the direction of the conversation. “As I’ve already told you, we have a new client who is…very well off financially. As much as it pains me to say this, I’m running a business here that is supposed to make money. This could be a very profitable client for us.” A smile tugged at her lips. “Almost a literal cash cow.”

The ridiculousness of the comment with their situation made Luanne want to laugh, but the contained herself. “Okay. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m supposed to do.” She finished tucking in her blouse and sat back in the chair.

“Let me explain what exactly is supposed to happen tonight.”

 

 

Two

 

In some ways Luanne felt more comfortable being naked than being clothed. She felt like she was hiding nothing and could see that everyone else was hiding nothing as well. Stripping down to nothing in the basement locker room of the farmhouse was an old ritual she remembered fondly. Being naked made her free. Usually after getting naked she would immediately put on some ridiculous costume or another, but tonight she was to remain naked. With the remarkable poise of one who had done this a hundred times before, Luanne left the locker room and walked calmly across the lawn to the barn. She entered at the back into a small side room. Already there were three other women inside, one of whom she recognized.

“Hi, Casey,” she greeted the slightly chubby blonde. Casey nodded in acknowledgement and then Luanne remembered that they were supposed to remain silent. The Farm workers generally took on a role and inhabited it for as long as possible before they started fulfilling the client’s fantasy.

Usually at The Farm one could be assured of a variety of different body types and ethnicities, but that only partly applied to tonight. Casey was short and blonde, of the other two women, one was definitely of Asian descent and the other seemed to be of generic Western European roots, though she towered over everyone else in the room by a good six inches. What everyone in the room did share, besides their nudity, were large breasts. Luanne knew why; they were all lactating.

The door opened and everyone turned to see Steffie enter. She was dressed in The Farm’s traditional servant costume: short French maid dress, corset, stockings held up with visible garters, and elbow length gloves. She wore practical shoes with enough of a heel to give her butt a lift. A shiny thin black collar circled her neck. “We’re waiting on one more,” Steffie said looking around the room. “Remember your places, remember your roles. Remember to keep silent, you are not to speak.” Her eyes rested on Luanne who looked away guiltily. She knew that The Farm was covered with cameras and microphones—supposedly for the safety of the patrons and employees, but Luanne had her perverse doubts—and was certain that Steffie had checked on them before she came to the barn.

A shiver went up and down Luanne’s spine. It was supposed to tell her that she was nervous and a bit frightened at the unknown. Instead, it reassured her. That sensation always insinuated itself into her body when she was about to do something that pushed against her admittedly flawed and frayed moral code. That’s why she loved working at The Farm. It pushed her to and beyond her limits.

It was also the first time in months she had been genuinely excited and wet. She wanted to reach between her legs and feel what her pussy was doing. Admittedly she knew she was wet with anticipation, but she wanted to check anyway, to feel her natural lubrication between her fingers, the way her pussy juice could be slick beyond reason. Luanne held back, knowing how odd it would look to stick her fingers up inside her sex while everyone else was just waiting patiently. Even at The Farm there was what was considered good manners and proper behavior, especially for servants. Masturbating with invitation or touching one’s own sex without permission was especially frowned upon.

Luanne knew she was on time, the other women were early, but there was one missing still. It was annoying to be held up by someone else’s rudeness. She wondered who the fifth woman was. Obviously it wasn’t Steffie, she was there merely to expedite the fantasy and move things along.

The door opened again and another well-endowed woman walked in. With her hair pulled back into a neat bun, a lack of makeup, and without her clothes, it took Luanne a moment to place the last member of their mammary quintet. When she did, she automatically blurted out, “Kim?”

Kim locked eyes with Luanne, but it was Steffie who took control of the situation. “Luanne, do I need to remind you again about the rule of silence tonight?”

Luanne opened her mouth to answer, remembered her error, and then simply shook her head. That wasn’t good enough for Steffie. The servant grabbed Luanne’s hand, turned it over, palm up, and slapped her soft palm with the stiff cane that she had casually carried tucked under her arm. “See you don’t forget again.”

Pulling back her hand, Luanne’s face flushed with embarrassment at having been humiliated in front of the peers she barely knew. The sting on her palm throbbed a few times, but quickly started to fade. It was the rebuke that hurt the most. The other women didn’t laugh, but she could see through her teary eyes that they all—except for Kim—wanted to titter at her physical reprimand.

Steffie went to the cabinet crammed into the room’s corner, opened it, and pulled out a set of hard metal collars. “Put them on, ladies,” she ordered as she passed them out.

It was a simple hinged steel collar lightly padded on the inside. There was a simple closure on the side opposite the hinge that held it tightly closed. This was paired with a set of rings designed for a lock to be placed on the collar. No locks were issued, much to Luanne’s relief, and she followed along with everyone else as they wrapped the metal loops around their necks and slide the pins fastening them closed. Luanne glanced briefly at Kim who had calmly put her collar around her neck and waited patiently.

Seeing The Farm’s owner and manager standing among the other women who were going to perform a ritualized fetish was more than passing strange, but since no one else commented on it, neither did Luanne. She did surreptitiously look at all the other women’s tits, quickly evaluating each and every one. They all looked equally delicious to her eyes. There were obvious signs of swollen flesh and the need to be expressed.

That was the look of anxiety she saw on the other women’s faces. Their tits were full to bursting and they needed to be milked. Kim had instructed Luanne not to express herself for as long as possible before coming to The Farm, for obvious reasons, but it appeared to her that some of the others serving tonight had gone much longer than she had.

When everyone was done Steffie called out, “Hands and knees, ladies. Farmer Brown is waiting for us. Let’s remember that you’re nothing more than subservient cows.” The five women went down on their hands and knees; Luanne found herself with her nose almost in Casey’s ass. Steffie had them line up in a neat row before she opened the door and let them out into the barn proper.

Some straw had been scattered around the barn so their hands and knees wouldn’t hurt so much on the hardwood floor. The group moved in a line, prodded by Steffie’s cane. She poked it into Luanne’s ass a few times. It didn’t hurt, the servant was just using it to direct her, but she could tell that Steffie was sorely tempted to use the cane as a proper switch across the soft flesh of her ass.

Steffie herded them over to the side of the barn that had been temporarily converted into an old-fashioned dairy stall. Six stations were set up and the sight gave Luanne another exciting and frightening shiver. She immediately understood where her head was supposed to go and the machine that stood next to each collar rack was obvious in its purpose. A man wearing overalls, a flannel shirt, and boots stood to the side of the six stalls. “C’mon,” he said with a thick backwoods accent. “Get ‘em in here.”

At this order Steffie tapped her cane on Kim’s curved buttocks. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was enough to encourage the entire herd to hurry along and put themselves neatly into each stall. Luanne entered her stall and found a thick pile of straw under her hands and knees. She knew what was expected, but it was still a mental struggle for her to put her head into the open rack. Farmer Brown—it was obvious who he was—came along the outside of each stall and closed the rack above each woman’s head, effectively locking them in place. Perhaps Luanne could have twisted herself and stood up to reach the locking mechanism at the top of the rack, but that wasn’t what she was supposed to do. She knew her role and she was expected to play it out. Otherwise there would be severe consequences—and not the sort of consequences she used to enjoy playing with.

The walls to the stalls were low; Luanne could see Casey on her left and Kim to her right. The far right stall was empty which made her wonder if Kim had failed to secure a sixth lactating woman and even had to step in to fill the fifth slot.

“Thank yah, Steffie,” Farmer Brown said, his voice thick and accented. “Will yah wait here while I inspect ‘em?”

Out of the corner of her eye Luanne saw Steffie nod. “As you wish.” She turned smartly on her heel and marched to the other side of the barn, waiting for the strange man to perform his inspections.

Luanne was nervous but excited as well. She knew what was going to happen but in some ways that made it worse.

“Inspection time, girls,” Farmer Brown announced. “I need to make sure my heifers and cows are good and healthy.”

He started with stall number one and moved steadily down the line, taking each woman’s face in his hands, opening up their mouths, and inspecting their teeth and faces. When he reached Luanne and forced her jaws open with strong but soft fingers, she didn’t resist. She didn’t want to resist.

He ran his thumb over her teeth and pulled out her tongue, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. After a quick glance into her eyes—and Luanne looked back but couldn’t read the man’s expression—he moved on to Kim. If he recognized The Farm’s manager, he didn’t give any indication and went through the same inspection ritual.

The farmer then moved behind the women to inspect their bodies. He again began at stall number one and moved steadily down each one, running his hands other their skin and looking at every inch of their body. With her head locked into place Luanne could only see a limited amount of what Farmer Brown was doing but once he reached her stall, it all became apparent.

He ran his hands over her shoulders and back, then around to her tits to feel their weight as they hung down from her chest. He jiggled them a bit to gauge their fullness and how engorged she was, and then squeezed expertly. Twin sprays of milk erupted from her nipples and wetted the straw beneath her body. Luanne let out a soft moan because she couldn’t’ deny how good it felt. The other women had been silent during their inspections and Luanne’s face flushed red again because she wasn’t able to maintain the level of obedience that they had.

Farmer Brown didn’t seem offended by her small noise and moved around behind her, running his hands over her buttocks and down to her thighs where he forced them wider. His fingers probed up into her pussy. He grunted once when he found her wetness, ran his fingers over the short fuzziness of her pubic hair, didn’t bother looking for her clitoris, then rand his finger back along the length of her slit before pushing it into her ass up to his first knuckle.

Luanne managed not to gasp at the uninvited invasion. She’d been fucked in the ass before but only after being warmed up and warned. This was rougher than she liked, but she didn’t have any say in the matter. She was Farmer Brown’s property and he would do with her as he wished.

His inspection of Luanne over, he moved down to Kim and performed the same ritual. Luanne could just barely see him running his hands over her body. Kim took it all impassively, staring straight ahead at the wall while Luanne looked at her.

Finally he was done and Farmer Brown turned to Steffie who was leaning against the barn door. “I was promised three cows and three heifers. I only got two heifers here. One’s a missin’.”

“The fee will be adjusted accordingly,” Steffie told him as if she were negotiating any business transaction.

“I’d prefer more heifers to cows,” he added. “I like to be in charge of their breeding. These three have already birthed at least once each. They give more milk that way, but heifers make it sweeter.”

Steffie shrugged. “This is what we can offer you today. Will you take the lot?”

“Can I breed ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll stick to the deal, with the adjustment,” he declared and stuck out his hand. Steffie shook it, sealing the bargain. “I’ll start with ‘em right away.”

“Would you like some privacy?” Steffie asked.

“I don’t care. They’re just cows. They don’t care.”

“As you will,” Steffie said. She indicated the phone attached to the wall across the barn. “Call if you need anything.”

From there Farmer Brown brought out his equipment on a rolling cart. What he had was not at all similar to the breast pumps Luanne had used herself before, they looked like the sort of pumps dairy farmers used, but modified for use on humans. She wondered who had done the modifications because they looked expertly done. A dairy farm’s pumps would have four nozzles, but the ones Farmer Brown had were each set with two nozzles, a combination of steel and clear plastic. He switched on the central pump and it came to life with a rush of air and a buzz of an electric motor. Once more he went down the line, this time attaching the strong suction nozzles to each woman’s—each cow’s—tits.

When he reached Luanne she arched her back in anticipation and the eager nozzles grabbed onto her nipples with a strength she had never before encountered. Luanne gasped with amazement as the power of the suction held the pumps in place and at the same time started to remove her milk. Each time the pump cycled she could feel her milk spraying out into the collection nozzle to drain down to a central collection tank.

As much as she hated to admit it, the pump was incredibly effective at expressing her milk. It was much faster than the handheld model she had used on herself—but consequently it was also much more painful. At least at first. The first minute was primary about pain and the sensation of her milk letting down and running free. The second minute, her body took over control of the sensations—leaving her mind free—and her reaction was much the same as the other cows. Her lustful needs rose.

Her pussy moistened. Her back arched. She opened her thighs wider and wished for penetration and relief. Luanne let out a little moan of need and instead of being rewarded with a firm, throbbing cock, Farmer Brown brought down the training cane on her upturned ass. The sharp thwack of cane on flesh startled all the cows. The stinging sensation on her skin brought Luanne back to reality. “Behave yourself, girl,” Farmer Brown admonished her. “Good cows give milk and need nothing else.”

Luanne didn’t acknowledge him; her head was still locked in place so she couldn’t turn around and look. Once more she knew shame at her poor behavior.

What worried her the most wasn’t the pain of having her milk drained by the powerful pump, but what might happen along the way. More than once while nursing Joleen, Luanne had experience a small orgasm. Her husband—while he had lived—had been curious and tried her milk on a few occasions. That made her cum harder. The use of the most powerful pump she had ever tried gave her shivers. Her first orgasms with the small vibrator she had in college were nothing compared to the Hitachi Magic Wand Jeff had given her as a birthday present. The quality of the orgasms were completely different. Luanne knew she could come from nipple stimulation alone and she knew it was going to happen before Farmer Brown took the pumps off her tits.

She clamped her jaws shut and pressed her thighs together while staring straight ahead at the wall. At this point she didn’t know or care what the other cows were doing. There was only one way for her to get through this milking. Closing her eyes, Luanne summoned up an image of Jeff—his cock hard and his lust high—and imagined him fucking her in this ridiculous position.

It worked. She came while keeping her mouth shut making such little noise that it was hidden largely by the noisy hum of the pump’s motor. If Case and Kim knew what was going on, they gave her no indication. Farmer Brown was too distracted by the other women at the moment to notice.

Eventually everyone’s tits started to run dry. Farmer Brown shut down the pump but the remaining suction in the tubes kept them attached to Luanne’s tits. The farmer moved down the line once more slowly releasing the pressure and detaching the nozzles. When Luanne’s were finally removed she sighed in relief, looked down at her breasts, and then gasped under her breath in surprise. The power of the pump had stretched out her nipples. Before they had been a light tan with the areola not much bigger than the circle described by her forefinger and thumb but now they were reddened with the nipples stretched out and huge, the areola twice as big as before.

It pleased her. But what happened next frightened her.

“You’ve been makin’ more noise than the rest of the herd,” Farmer Brown said as he stepped behind her and unhooked the straps to his overalls. “You obviously need calmin’. The only way to calm a cow is to breed her.” The farmer pushed his overalls down to his ankles and knelt behind Luanne. She could have struggled or fought his off, but there was no need to. She’d been through this before in a different context, but she knew it certainly had the potential to happen. And truth be told, she was eager to give up what he wanted. Her lust wasn’t sated by her small orgasm given by the pump.

He was talking almost to himself now, but everyone was listening. “Heifers should be bred at the first opportunity,” he said, “but once a cow is bred, she has to keep bein’ bred or she just misbehaves. Keeping her belly and udder full is the easy way to keep her down.” As he spoke he rearranged Luanne’s position, spreading her thighs, arching her back, and then, without any real warning, he shoved his hard cock into her waiting pussy.

It went it without resistance. Luanne wasn’t ashamed at this. He fucked her hard and without remorse. Since she was held in place by the collar attached to the rack, it wasn’t possible for her to move, and his thrusts forced her shoulders up against the bars of the rack. It was his fantasy, first milking her and then fucking her, so he could use her as he wished, but he wasn’t an artist when it came to sex. The way he thrusted and used her body did little for her. Luckily he finished rather quickly. After the fact Luanne realized that everything from the moment the cows had crawled into the barn had been foreplay for him. This was just the final step for him.

When his hot cum jetted into her cunt, she could feel it splash about and that thought was enough to make her cum again. Tears slid down her cheeks. It felt so wonderfully good to be milked and fucked, used for someone else’s pleasure and to take pleasure in that use herself.

Farmer Brown pulled his cock out of her and smacked her on the ass. “We’ll find out in a few days if that worked,” he said as he stood up and pulled his overalls back into place. “Once you start carryin’, those udders will grow extra big.”

He pulled a black Sharpie marker from his overalls pocket and wrote a quick note upon Luanne’s rump. She wanted to twist her head around and see what he had written, but she was locked into the rack and the effort was impossible. He went down the line once more, inspecting each cow’s cunt with eyes and fingers to see what their individual response to the milking was. Overall, Farmer Brown was pleased and patted each cow on the ass when he was done, a gentle gesture to show them he cared. When the inspections were over he picked up the main collection tank the women had filled, and then went to the barn door, where he announced, “Good night, girls,” and turned off the lights as he exited.

The five women—cows—remained on hands in knees in silence for a long minute. Luanne didn’t know what the others were thinking, but she was too worried about what might happen if she were to speak or do something that was no permitted, so she stayed in her position, wondering and worrying, and feeling the farmer’s cum slowly drip down and out of her pussy. She hated that feeling of a man’s spunk sliding out of her, she either wanted to be on her back and have it stay in place or she wanted to run to shower and wash off. Neither of those options were a possibility while she was locked in the rack.

Abruptly the barn door slammed open and the lights flickered back to life. Luanne couldn’t see because her head was still locked into the rack and it frustrated her to no end. Bondage wasn’t her thing. She had played with it before, both professionally and privately, and being held down did little for her; she indulged in it because others paid her to or because it pleased her husband. She heard two sets of footsteps cross the barn’s hardwood floor. When the figures finally reached the restrained women Luanne saw, unsurprisingly, that Steffie was in the lead, but accompanying her was a man that took her a moment to place. It was Mark, Kim’s partner in The Farm, and in her bed too, Luanne had always suspected.

One by one Steffie went to each woman’s stall and slid the locking pin free of the rack releasing their collar. However, at the same time Mark was hooking a long leash to each collar as the women pulled their heads free. “Stay on your hands and knees,” he ordered each one as they worked down the line.

This was unexpected, but Luanne knew that at The Farm, when she was given an order, it was to be followed without question. Sure, maybe she couldn’t see the client, but he could certainly be watching her through the many cameras scattered about the house and barn. It was odd watching Mark hook the long leash to Kim’s collar and to have her crawl out of the stall. She wondered what the two of them were thinking.

The leash they were using was extremely long, each cow on hands and knees was on the same leash, just hooked to it every five feet or so. Luanne just willingly went along with the group. That’s what she was being paid for. They were led into the annex room where her little adventure had started. It was neutral, safe ground where they could rise to the their feet and remove leash and collar. Even when they did this the group—the herd—remained largely silent. Only when Kim’s leash and collar were off did she speak up; Steffie actually took a step back and let her boss control the situation.

“You all know what’s expected of you. Meals and beds are available in the house. Don’t leave the grounds or you won’t receive payment for tonight. Next milking is tomorrow morning.” She delivered this short speech like she was addressing a group of employees at the local Target, only she was naked. When she was done she grabbed one of the robes from the hooks next to the door and headed to the door. As she started to exit she said softly to Luanne, “Meet me in my office in ten minutes.”

Luanne wasn’t sure if she heard the words correctly, but she grabbed a robe and started to follow. The manager was already halfway across the lawn and Luanne briefly considered running after her, but then realized she meant for Luanne to wait at least ten minutes before going to the office. She altered plans and headed to the basement locker room for a quick shower. Before getting under the running water she looked over her shoulder and into the mirror to see what had been written on her skin. It simply read Bred 176 FB.

A few minutes later she walked upstairs with the robe wrapped around her body and her hair slightly damp from the shower. There were other people in the house. Some other event was going on, most likely small private parties or pre-arranged encounters exploring specialized kinks. Kim was waiting for her in the office.