The Milk b***h Trilogy

Chapter Six-1

Chapter Six

She was almost pleased to hear Ward’s cold voice on the phone – at first. “Someone senior from Commerce is coming here for drinks. You are going to join us.

“You are a w***e and I want you to dress like one. Wear a see-through blouse and a short skirt with nothing underneath but a garter belt and stockings … and your clamps.”

Ward’s impeccable Oxford-educated butler Ramesh, dressed in immaculate dove grey, opened the door with one graceful café au lait hand. The other held black leather with silver accents. “The Master requires that you wear these.” He clearly did not expect any demur.

Gina halted in surprise. Her gaze fixed on Ramesh’s hand for a long moment before she was able to respond. Then her speech was slow and tentative. “Well … all right. If that’s what he wants.”

Ramesh fitted a high stiff collar under her chin. He reached around under her dark hair and she lifted it for him so he could lock the collar at her nape. It pressed against her trachea, not tightly enough to restrict breathing but almost. She now found her head motion severely restricted.

The butler snapped a lead to the large D-ring under her chin. “Please follow me.” He led her down the hall to the library.

Next to Ward on the deep brown leather sofa, drink in hand, sat a stocky Southerner with an aura of power.

Ramesh jerked her lead and she hesitantly moved forward. When they reached the sofa he made no motion to pass her lead to Ward … or to loosen it enough for her to join the men.

Ward looked up into her eyes. “Bob is helping me with some business. You’re going to make sure he’s taken care of.”

Gina had driven down knowing Ward planned to use her this way. She’d thought about it as miles of verdant scenery flashed past unseen. She felt compelled to reason with him, to try to re-establish the normal patterns of her life. “May I speak with you for a moment?” Her voice was plaintive.

“That is not necessary.” His tone was implacable and slightly amused. “Is it too long since you were reminded of Marie and Stephanie?”

One again he’d effortlessly subjugated her. Ripples of fear ran through her and she hung her head as best she could in the high collar. Bob watched curiously.

“I’ve told Bob he can have you whenever he wants your services. I’ve given him your mobile number and you are to go to him when he calls.”

She looked at Ward in dismay. She’d thought he couldn’t increase his intensity of humiliation, but she’d been wrong. With one simple gesture, he’d manage to strip away even more of the few remaining shreds of her life’s integrity and place her at his mercy.

“Now remove your clothes. Leave on shoes, stockings and the clamps.”

Ramesh held Gina’s lead while she unzipped her dress, allowed it to drop to the floor and stepped out of it. The butler exhibited her like a show animal. He first bent her forward at the waist so Bob could squeeze her breasts and manipulate her n*****s and the clamps.

A flush of shame suffused her face and then spread over her shoulders and onto her breasts. Even her thighs felt raw and hot.

“The black screws tighten the clamps.” Ward watched like the approving owner of a prize piece of livestock.

Bob turned a screw and a small shriek escaped Gina’s lips. He quickly looked up into her face then cracked a smile at Ward. “Great! … Now let’s see that ass.”

Ramesh shortened her lead and turned her. Bob ran his hands over her cheeks. “Mmmm! . . . Bend her over again, okay?” Ramesh pulled her head down. Her cheeks spread slightly when she bent. She wanted to protect herself with her hands but didn’t dare.

Bob spread her cheeks further and pulled the sides of her anus apart. “Yeah! I’ll have to try that!” He reached forward and pushed a couple of thick fingers inside her v****a. “Nice and wet!”

Gina felt his fingers forcing their way inside her. She felt him move them in and out, first slowly then faster, harder … and very clumsily, she thought resentfully. His fingers jammed against her cervix and they hurt. Gina winced and tried surreptitiously to pull away but Ramesh held her firmly in place.

Finally, mercifully, Bob stopped and licked his fingers with a loud slurp. “Looks good to me.”

Ramesh led Gina up the broad staircase to the second floor, the men following behind. Bob kept slapping her prettily jiggling cheeks as she ascended, sometimes hard enough to knock her off balance, making her stumble on her high heels. The small indignity seemed ridiculous to her but she felt so ashamed.

Ramesh brought the group into a large, bare room. In front of a long bank of windows overlooking the river stood a knee high platform with barred metal sides attached to its top. “Daddy made his b***h a stall,” Ward told her.

Ramesh helped Gina crawl up onto the platform and forward into the topless cage. He snapped the D-rings on the sides of her collar into metal straps hanging from the bars and unhooked her lead. Silently she backed against the wall and waited.

Gina heard Ward’s voice, “She’s all yours.” And then Bob was on her, panting and grunting. The s*x was different from before and it was profoundly different. She hated what was happening to her and simultaneously felt stripped of any ability to stop it. Yet somehow she felt a tremendous obligation to Ward – to Daddy – to do her best job for him.

Afterwards Ward fed her excellent corn fritters and chowder in a tavern in Alexandria where George Washington had eaten two hundred and thirty years previously.

That night she returned to Ward’s home rather than her own. He took her hand and led her into his bedroom.

His bed was massive, black with age and ornately Jacobean. Heavy, dark gold silk drapes were held completely open by tasselled blood red cord. He undressed her slowly and lowered her onto its foot. Her skin tingled as his hands moved across her body. She looked up at him expectantly.

He picked up a piece of black leather – she couldn’t tell what it was – and, with one startling movement, encased her head in an unforgiving hood. Her head jerked forward and back and the leather constricted suffocating when he tugged the cinches tight. As fear rushed through her, she heard his voice, softened and quieted by the thick leather, “Did the b***h expect romance?”

Ward tied her arms tightly back around the post, forcing her breasts outward. The carvings on the heavy post dug deep grooves into her upper back. He wrapped a thick absorbent pad around her bottom, pushing her lower back and hips up and out – “for the bed’s, certainly not for the f**k-b***h’s protection.” The position raised her genitals, her clit straining upward between her labia.

She was afraid of him now – again. But the cool air moved across her tissues like gentle fingers. Then the tissues tightened as Ward spread her legs apart and used more rope to stretch each bare foot toward an adjacent post.

The black leather moulded like skin to eyes, nose and mouth, leaving only her nostrils exposed through two small holes. A leather gag hidden inside further restricted her breathing. At first she’d panicked, twisting uncomfortably and making frightened noises. She heard Ward’s muffled voice. “Such a nice dampening effect.”

Then she knew the hood wasn’t coming off. She forced herself to relax, to breathe slowly and evenly. She experimented with her breath and learned that she wouldn’t suffocate.

Yet he made her feel unbearably exposed and vulnerable – and terrified. Her heightened senses felt each whisper of her body’s stimulation, each pulse of blood through her organs, each tingle. Ward told her, “We’re going to experiment with sensations.”

At each new step he described his tools to her. “First I’m going to try heat and cold. Which first, I wonder?”

Gina tried to pull away but Ward warned her, “You’d better not move. You don’t want to burn yourself badly.” She held perfectly still, senses screaming. Her heart pounded. She didn’t know what he pressed against her n*****s, what large awkwardly shaped objects he forced into her rectum. They all felt so painfully hot she didn’t know if she could stand it. Her breathing became laboured and panic rose in her chest. Doubts raced through her mind: Despite it all, her intuition – and yes, her need – had insisted he wouldn’t seriously injure her. Had she been wrong?

“That,” he told her, “was ice.” Relief washed over her. Her body vibrated with the after-effects. Oddly, his cruel subterfuge added an appreciative thrill. “Now, fire.” She heard the match strike and inhaled a whiff of cigarette smoke.

His voice sounded considerate. “Please don’t move.” He started with the soles of her bare feet, holding the flame close to the arch. She wanted to pull away but couldn’t move her feet more than an inch or two. Seemingly of their own accord, her feet tensed so hard they began to cramp. She cried out in pain and fear. With relief she felt him move the flame … to her n*****s. The flame was so hot she was sure her n****e flesh would wrinkle and peel.

She was faint from her struggle to control her trembling when she felt the heat move lower. He pulled her labia open.

Gina stiffened. She’d thought she’d been afraid before but it hadn’t compared to this terror. Something touched her clit. She flinched but somehow managed to control her motion.

For a long time he used his fingers and his mouth to play with her, patiently experimenting, she realised. At first she did not believe that he intended to give her pleasure. Her body remained tensed. To her surprise, the tension seemed to enhance other sensations. Her arousal swelled and she moaned and strained against his fingers, her body fighting to c*m.

Then the arousal subsided again, without orgasm. She almost screamed in frustration yet he would not let her be. She moaned and wept, overcome with self pity. He would never let her be!

She was exhausted and soaked with sweat and her own juices. Mercilessly, he again made her writhe with pleasure under his fingers. This time, he puffed the flame to life. Fearfully she smelled the smoke. “Don’t move.” He manipulated her until she moaned and squirmed uncontrollably, then held the flame close to her clit. Her body was so stimulated that she couldn’t tell heat from arousal. She was so close. Her body strained to c*m … but couldn’t. Again she reacted – slackening this time – in frustration. He set the cigarette down.

Ward’s pause snapped her to alarmed attention. Gina anxiously strained through the hood to hear what he was doing. She felt him close, on the bed. Then something pleasantly cool moved across her n*****s and downward. Something thin and hard crossed her clit, gently spread her labia and moved lower over her holes.

The next moment his fingers gripped one lip and she heard a snap. A sharp spot of intense pain rushed across her senses. He pulled and the pain became a deep ache. “This is a different kind of clamp. I’m going to put them on your other lip and your nipples.”

She shook her head violently and cried “No no no!” around the gag. But she felt the pressure and then the deep pain as the clamps crushed her flesh. Now her labia stretched tautly upward and her n*****s downward. The stretching sharpened the pain almost, but not quite, unbearably.

“I’m tying your t**s to your cunt,” Ward told her and then he began again with his fingers and the cigarette.

Gina was experiencing strange sensations. On one hand she felt the pain. The clamps were agonizing and the heat of the cigarette seared both her body and mind. But she found the pulling, the stretching open and exposure, even the intensity of heat, profoundly stimulating. Ward was relentless. She wondered at the effects of all the sensation he gave her and then was overwhelmed by them.

Her consciousness was not quite inside her. She seemed to be watching her body. She felt wonderful – excited and stimulated, drunk or drugged. But she wasn’t. Somehow she knew it was the stress to her body coupled with her mental subjugation causing the feelings.

The extreme sensations didn’t make her c*m but they got her so close. Gina felt him watching and pushing her inexorably upward toward orgasm. After what seemed to her an almost intolerable eternity, he brought her to the edge then used a powerful vibrator to finish her. She screamed for many minutes while her body thrashed against the post, raising bruises on her back.

Afterwards, when she lay curled on his bed unrestrained, she felt completely ‘done’. Her state of mind and body was luxurious. Suddenly she had an illusive glimpse of something missing at the centre of her life.

In the stillness she heard Ward’s voice. “I’ve given a great deal of consideration to what you are.” Somehow she had become vulnerable to his will. Unconsciously she yielded and was manipulated by his words. “I am the only person in your life who understands what you want and what you need.

“You are a magnificent animal who needs to be used. I will make you my prize brood b***h. I’m going to breed you to every man who can pay your price, just like a valuable animal. I’m also going to take the Sheik’s suggestion and make you produce milk.

“Tomorrow I’m taking you to the doctor to begin your alteration.” He looked to her as if he was pleased to give her good news – and that she should feel the same. “You should be excited. This is the beginning of your true life.”

His images traipsed through hidden reaches of her mind, gripping things she hadn’t known were there with sticky fingers and stirring them to the surface. Some part of her reached for them, but they were too darkly shadowed to be accessible. She stared at him in disbelief. Without thinking she said, “That’s not possible.”

He smiled icily. “I asked you earlier if you had forgotten Marie and Stephanie. Do I need to give you another reason to follow my orders?”

She shook her head no – too exhausted and befuddled to be frantic or even afraid any longer. Once again he had shattered her tenuous hold on security. She now knew she could do nothing about the path he chose for her. In total fatigue she gave up. She had no choice but to obey him.

He patted her bare leg. “I promise, you’re going to love your new life.”

Suddenly she was back in her dream. It had been Ward who bred her to the men who squeezed milk from her cow teats. The dream’s arousal gripped her all over again. Was he right?