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“Miss Penny. She considers them fruit. Enjoys having them grow for her,” 128 offers in explanation.
“And no doubt to be one day picked,” Kelly adds with a laugh. “So Penny works him and his balls,” Kelly glancing at the spatula hanging in wait.
Kelly squeezes. Though gentle, 88 lurches, the daily ball spanking bringing heightened sensitivity. She smiles, her fingers moving to the penis tube.
“Intact but permanently chastised. Must be quite randy.”
“Yes Ma’am. Miss Penny runs him stiff. Likes displaying his erection.”
“I imagine it amuses. Over your months here, I’m sure you’ve encountered many forms and levels of mastery. It’s what Nusquam is about... satiating needs.”
“Yes Ma’am. It’s time for his exercise,” 128 moving to retrieve a leash.
Kelly watches the naked subjugant clip a leash to the testicle rings, smiling as a finger ever so gently brushes the underside of the steel encased penis, diddling the small exposed portion of penile flesh. As the cylinder rises, Kelly smiles.
Ah, the frustration, Kelly ponders, noting that 88 lustfully stares at the enormous breasts. When 128 pushes in place a stool, stepping up to release the nostril chain, she presses her mammoth glands against his chest. Penis now upturned, a warm thigh also grazes the open patch of skin. The touch brings a brisance of delight, 88 thrusting forth his hips to frottage. An observing Mastiff warns. A deep woof, rarely heard, instantly terminates conduct deemed forbidden.
128 steps down, firmly gripping the testicle leash.
“I walk him many miles. Miss Penny insists he be conditioned.”
“Of course. I’ll join you.”
Chapter Forty-Four
“I understand you spent some time with Nurse Traite in the milking parlor... being evaluated.”
“Yes Miss Kelly.”
Member and subjugant converse as 128 circles the paddock area of the stable facility, a leashed steed 88 plodding behind. Spanked balls always sore to the touch, he attentively responds to the directing hand of his groom, tension to be minimized, obedience assured.
“You have enormous breasts, Pattie... er... 128. You’d be a good producer... let down well. The members would enjoy having your glands perform for them. Of course your nipples would need to be conditioned... lengthened. But all skin stretches. In time they’ll become long enough for a slow soothing hand milking.”
Udders! 128 finds the notion unsettling. Images of human cow 79 come to mind... the sound of the goat milking machine... the rhythmical whooshing... the low moans evidencing initial joy... transforming to futile begging as the glands became irritated with the constant sucking.... the clear teat cups first filling with the extraordinarily long nipple flesh... pink turning to red... then coated with sprays of beige lactate... cycle after cycle after cycle... the suckling unrelenting... the reservoir tank slowly but steadily filling.
“You did not tell me about that... when describing Nusquam,” 128 timidly offers.
“Becoming a subjugant at Nusquam means acquiescing. There are many aspects of serving here that are not meaningful to divulge. You’re here to capitulate and serve... in any manner...at the pleasure of the members. The milking parlor is a source of amusement. And you’re here to amuse... to be exhibited... naked, hairless, tattooed, branded.”
128 senses moisture. The words bring twinges. Why?
“Then I’m to be bred. Inseminated.”
“It assures you will properly express. And enhance your desire to nurture... to give... to offer all.”
“It’s... it’s... serene. I’m not sure I can do it. The thought of being suckled... and suckled... then lying in nothingness.... waiting to be suckled again. It’s... well... there’s... there’s no...”
“No pain. No trauma. Your masochism not properly assuaged?” Kelly completing the thought. “You’ll not be corporally punished in the milking parlor. And that disappoints. You would not adequately produce... let down. So you prefer the sjambok... too much enjoy the feel of your tummy pressing against a sodomy frame? Having your sphincter opened. Your throat used as a vagina?”
“It... it excites. I do not understand it... but it so much thrills.”
“No girl of your ilk ever does... understand. It’s why you’re here... to protect from your own self destruction. Remember being stranded riding the horse? Being strung up in full suspension and porcupined. Hot needles... dozens... thrusting through every inch of pink flesh? I can’t say it won’t happen here... everything is at the whim of a member. But here you’ll not be abandoned! Instead your survival will be assured... not be endangered... so you can serve more... many years. In the milking parlor you’ll be well cared for, your diet rich with fat and lactose. You’ll be suckled and suckled... but not to death. You’ll produce for us until you’re ready for the pump house. And there you’ll labor until... well... the end. Well supervised and productive. That’s Nusquam.
“Your role as groom will soon be ending, 128. I am told Penny Osborne has other plans... something more depraved,” Kelly not wanting to divulge that 88 is to be led about by the avenging hand of his wife.
“If your tits are deemed suitable and you refuse the milking parlor, it’s the pump house, there to be declawed, defanged and desexed. Or perhaps a short stint in the kennel first. That would change your mind... but then it would be too late. Once a subjugant cedes to a Mastiff, the members tend to lose interest.”
128 shudders. She had not before realized that there can be a fate worse than the milking parlor. Would she indeed find herself forced to please the many canines? She pictures herself belly down on a sodomy stanchion, huge paws pressed to her shoulders... the feel of slimy canine drool... the odor of fetid breath... fur tantalizing her buttocks... ah that initial thrust... so degrading... the observing Nusquam members so deviantly entertained.
