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“Goodness, Alexi, you’re lactating already. Oh, when the hormones kick in, your prolactin level is going to be sky high.
“Well, no sense in wasting good breast milk.”
The Doctor and Nurse left the room. I was strangely disappointed. Her hands felt good and expelling the milk, cloudier than the colostrum extracted weeks before, provided a curious feeling of satiation.
For the ensuing months, we were fed intra rectally. Maria’s breasts became enormous and Nurse Inga had to secure her higher on the posts least her nipples brush the padded flooring. Each day Dr. Helga come through the sta
ll and performed her wonderful massage, each time bringing us to just the beginning of lactation. It was frustratingly pleasurable and I came to look forward to the brief afternoon encounter.
Meanwhile, my empty stomach constantly ached for food. I did not experience the weakness one normally feels from lack of solids, since the brownish liquid provided incredible sustenance, but still one’s system expects food.
The crewmembers seemed to understand this need among the girls being fed intra rectally. For on many occasions as we were being led to the exercise deck or to the washroom, a passing crewmember would smile at Nurse Inga and stop to converse. Then he would wave about a package of candy, which after weeks of tasting nothing, was the equivalent of offering an exotic French dessert.
“Who’d like to spread for me?”
Yes, the randy young sailor offered a piece of candy for a quick display of our genitalia and Nancy was the first girl to part her feet and bend over. The sailor laughed on that first occasion and with one hand inserted the proffered candy into her mouth while the other was found exploring the well shaven labia.
After Nancy’s initial acquiescence, it became reflexive for us to bend and spread when the young, virile sailor held up his bag of sweets. Nurse Inga seemed most amused watching the girls humiliate themselves for a piece of candy. But it did taste good, and the sugar served to quiet my growling stomach for an hour or so.
Within a few weeks I came to look for the well-muscled, blond and blue-eyed crewman and it became a contest amongst the girls as to who could best attract his attention, bending and spreading to obscene extremes. And I wanted to strip to make lots of money, I thought to myself with great irony. Here I was willing to do more for just a piece of candy.
On one afternoon, I was caught talking to Maria. She was incredibly plump, as were all the girls, and she was whimpering. My words of comfort were apparently heard by the powerful microphones, for within minutes I found myself being led to the washroom for a cold-water punishment enema.
Once again the sailor crossed our path, only this time I was alone with Nurse Inga. He smiled and dangled the bag of candy. Nurse Inga stopped pulling on the leash and I knew to immediately bend and spread. Since there was no time schedule to be followed I suppose Nurse Inga decided to just let the amazingly handsome crewman to have his way. For as he placed the candy in my mouth, the fingers of his other hand entered my vagina.
It was shocking how easily his fingers slipped in.
“You’re dilating, little lady.”
He laughed with his observation and I remember thinking... did he have to be so good-looking and so knowledgeable? He proceeded to play with my quim like a musical instrument and within a moment, I joined his concert with a song of ecstasy. It had been many weeks since I was touched there, longer by a male. Thus, I moaned and became angry with myself, knowing that it brought a wicked smile to the lips of the young sailor. But his fingers felt so good.
“She’s quite a vixen, Inga. Due in two months and randy as a rabbit. She’d like to swallow my whole hand. I can feel her squeezing my fingers.”
Both laughed and I let out another sigh of ecstasy.
The sailor withdrew, very much entertained for the price of a piece of candy.
Our journey to the washroom continued. There the cold water enema served to douse my arousal and was amazingly uncomfortable.
I vowed to remain silent thereafter.
Chapter Nine
Our eighth month approached. Dr. Helga began to include in her daily examination an inspection of our vulvas. As she did so she announced to Nurse Inga the slow increase in dilation, which was duly recorded.
Also included were Kegel exercises with the added twist that we had to perform them while the fingers of her gloved hand felt the contractions and counted out the cadence.
“Good strong pelvic platforms, girls. Squeeze again. Give me another set of 20.”
Then came Lamaze instruction. On the outdoor deck, naked in the warm tropical sun, our exercise period turned to instruction in the basics of childbirth.
And finally, after a brief over night stay at a desolate port in Guiana, the ninth month came for 3 stall. One by one, each of us experienced contractions and labor pains. Then a trip to the delivery room. Then recovery.
Dr. Helga’s fortune was increasing. But little did I realize to what extent me and the other girls had contributed and would continue to do so.
Within a day after leaving the recovery room I returned to the stall and was secured to the posts. Girls with newborns received a one week reprieve from the exercise period. But instead the of combined drudgery and fear of having a horrid trainer standing over me with a cane, Dr. Helga visited.
“Well Alexi, you look most nubile today. A nice flat tummy and full, rounded breasts. We start off our lactation program with a firm hand milking. Tomorrow you’ll have the machine. We have quite the market for breast milk and I’m sure you won’t disappoint me.”
