Page 17 of M!lked For His Pleasure

“That’s my good little cow,” I groan, sliding the zipper all the way down.

My cock pops out from the tight fabric, granting me instant relief. Cupping my balls, I run my hand up and down myshaft, lurid sounds dripping from my lips as I watch Fiona’s expression. Her eyes widen as she looks me up and down.

“Y- you’refookingmassive,” she gasps, her fingers gripping the milking bench.

“That I am. Far too massive for a little thing such as yourself. That’s why I’m going to prepare you to take me. In the meantime, I want you to get just a small taste of me, that bite of painful pleasure you seem to crave.”

Her skin goes white as I turn off the machine and remove the suction cups. They weren’t on there long enough to drain her, allowing me to finally taste what my money won. Sliding behind her on the bench, I rock against her, grinding my cock against her back.

At first, her body is rigid against me. This won’t do at all. Wrapping my arms around her, I slide my hands under her breasts and knead the swollen tissue. Soon, she sways backward as if all the fight drains from her body.

With gentle movements, I urge her to face me. Her pupils dilate until nearly fully blown. An odd twinge of tenderness beats at my heart as I lean down, capturing her lips with mine. Fiona is so soft and pliant as I mold her to me, drinking from her lips like a man starving.

Enough games. Soon, I’ll need to bring her back to the transport so we can go to the farm. Once there, I can have my wicked way with her. Leaning back against the bench, I help her on top of me. Her slim thighs part, falling on either side of my hips.

She’s so small, so tiny, so fragile, but most importantly, so mine.

Chapter Eight

Fiona

My lips part as another moan slips past. Or is it a moo? I honestly can’t tell anymore. All I know is an all-consuming need as it ripples across my body. I need this alien like I need air, like I need the milk fully drained from my still-engorged breasts, but most importantly, like I need his body against mine.

I’ve never known such desperation before, and in my mind, what small, rational part remains, I wonder if it’s all the serum, or if part of me craves this stranger’s possession? It’s nearly unfathomable as I stretch out my body over his. Yet, it somehow feels sofookingright.

His massive, bulbous head prods my entrance, but based on what I saw earlier, there’s no way he’s going to fit. Granted, I’ve had my fair share of large cocks before, but this one takes the piss. Quite literally. Or do they even piss?

My mind is frantic, bursting from one thought to the next, like glow worms lighting up for their mates across the Scottish moors. Try as I might, I can’t get it to settle on one thought.Perhaps I’m just too afraid of the agony his cock will cause and so I use mental humor as a defense mechanism.

Such insight while I’m mere moments away from being torn in two by a dick the size of a large man’s forearm, with odd ridges and bulges to boot. Mum always did want me to go into the medical field as opposed to technology. What would she think if she saw me now? Counseling myself while resting upon this behemoth of an alien instead of a quack’s bench?

The mental image alone is enough to drive out the fear for a moment. I resist the urge to snort, knowing my captor will have no clue why my turn of thought is so hysterical. Honestly, I don’t think I can even explain it without either confusing or offending him.

Probably both.

“How do you Earthlings do it?” he grumbles, his chest vibrating against me with every syllable.

And just like that, my mind snaps back to where I am and who I’m on. But more importantly, the pulse of Master Antroli’s massive cock pulsing against the crack of my arse.

“Do what?” There’s a plaintive sound in my question, one I’m not used to hearing.

“Drift off into your mind, far away from reality. It’s a phenomenon I’ve never understood.”

He wants to talk about psychiatry now? His cock jerks against me as his hands slide down my back. And yet he has the coherency to talk about this? If I were in a far more coherent frame of mind, I’d be more than happy to counter his question with a few of my own.

But the words escape me. They’ve fled from my lips and brain the moment I first woke up on that ship, disoriented and out of my mind with sheer need. But now is not the time to talk. That can wait.

With a groan, I wriggle back and forth, shuddering at the heat radiating off of him. It coils through me, filling me up from the inside out. Unable to help myself, I drop my head against his chest and nuzzle his skin.

So right. Yet so wrong.

I should be fighting him and these feelings. I should be clawing at his skin as I scream like a banshee. But I don’t want any of that. In some twisted way, I want him.

Though I don’t even know the bastard, I want to feel his hands on my body, owning me, mastering me, and giving me those things I’ve desired in secret but never spoken out loud.

It’s as if he’s known me from the moment I existed. My ownfookingwet dream come to life. Granted, in my fantasies, he wasn’t blue and had a more manageable cock. But that doesn’t diminish the god I’ve created with every smutty book I’ve read and every swipe of my fingers as I sought my pleasure.

God, I’ve been so lonely for sofookinglong. It feels nice to have someone want me like this. He seems just as desperate, just as obsessed. At least I hope he is. Lifting my head, I look over at him.

---