Page 20 of Milked for the Holidays

Again, her hands are on my breasts, feeling and squeezing. If I keep my eyes closed, I can imagine my gyno doing her routine exam. All that goes out the window the moment I feel her breath against my skin.

Its heat envelops me, turning my blood molten. Everything is far too hot, far too uncomfortable. It’s as if I want to scratch at my skin until I bleed.

Scrunching my eyes, making sure they stay closed, I do my best to get out of my head. It’s an exam. That’s all it is. Nothing more. Nothing less. However, the moment her lips latch on, my pussy clenches in response.

She sucks on my nipple as she squeezes her hands. Seconds go by like hours as sharp sensations shoot through my breasts. Eventually, however, the pain morphs into blessed relief.

Groaning, I rock back and forth as a different kind of desperation coils through me. She doesn’t oblige, however. Even in sucking on me, she’s methodical, clinical. Once done with one breast, she moves to the other, and everything starts all over again.

“Your milk is as it should be. Sweet, thick, and delicious. Whoever wins you will be lucky indeed,” she says, pulling away from me to wipe her mouth.

I shouldn’t be happy at her pronouncement, but a small part of me preens at her words. At least everything is normal, I guess? As if she hadn’t touched me so intimately, she turns and fiddles with stuff on the cart.

“All that’s left is to clean you and take you over to the others awaiting auction.”

CHAPTER 9

JESSICA

Every inch of me throbs as she pulls the cart over and takes out various strange bottles. Perhaps she’s telling the truth, and it wasn’t sexual after all? She certainly doesn’t seem affected by it. At least, not nearly as affected as I am.

My body still buzzes as she slathers a pale blue goo onto my legs. While it sits there, she grabs a fresh bottle and pours the same odd concoction, red this time, over my arms, taking an extreme interest in my armpits. She goes over my body until the only untouched area is my pussy and asshole.

I stand there, stiff as she watches me. Since I don’t know what this stuff is doing, I don’t dare move. I can’t chance making the goos mix or dripping somewhere they shouldn’t. After a few moments, an odd warmth surrounds my body.

It’s a slight tingle, like ants crawling over my skin. I want to cry out, to tell her it’s uncomfortable, but the damn gag keeps me mute. Instead, harsh, guttural groans vibrate through my throat.

“I understand this might be uncomfortable, but we’re almost done.” Her slim fingers tap against her arm as if counting down.

After a few more moments, she kneels in front of me, takes a jagged-looking tool, and runs it down my thigh. I half expect it to hurt, but it doesn't. It almost feels like a nice scratch when you’ve been itchy for so long.

I can’t help the moan reverberating through me as she scrapes the irritant off of my skin. After each drag, she wipes it off into a bucket until all of it is off. Glancing down, I note the lack of hair.

My skin is smooth and far softer than I’ve ever felt it. My eyes widen as I look up at Enook, noting her lips twitching as if trying to smother a smile. She guides me over to the cot and helps me lie down.

“The Ranchers prefer their cows devoid of hair except on the head and face. It allows them to be easier to clean and maintain. This process is permanent, and will only be reversed if you choose to go back to your home planet at the end of three hundred and sixty-five Earth solar rotations.”

A year? I’m stuck here for a year? But then, her words actually permeate my brain. As much as I want to go back, I’d love to negotiate keeping this aspect. To live the rest of my life without hair might make the rest of this humiliation worth it.

However, my thoughts scatter as she spreads open my thighs. Eyes wild, I look down at her, not wanting yet another intimate encounter. But she simply smiles and holds up another bottle.

Right. Hair everywhere. Of course, that would include down there as well. Dragging a deep breath into my nose, I force myself to calm. I’ve been waxed before, so this should feel similar.

Just like with my breasts, her movements are clinical, not touching anything inappropriate unless she’s moving something out of the way. Once she’s done with my front, she turns me over to drag the same tingling goo up my ass crack. But since I now know what to expect, it’s not nearly as uncomfortable.

Before too long, she’s scraping those areas down, leaving me bare and tingling. Cool air kisses my exposed skin, sending a shiver through my body. Again, she turns me back over and heads up to my face.

This time, only small strips are applied, leaving my eyebrows. By the time she’s done, I just know I’ll be glowing from head to toe. After cleaning up her workstation, she grabs a bottle of something that looks like oil.

She rubs it into my skin, her movements perfunctory and quick. It makes me wonder if this is what she meant about not being able to pamper me. My heart thumps in my chest as she skims up my body. This is the one thing that could have felt nice.

Once I’m how she wants me, she stands and helps me to my feet. No more words are exchanged between us as she grabs some straps from the bottom area of the cart. She winds them around my body, hoisting my massive breasts up.

The relief is immense, causing me to sag against her. Enook gives a soft chuckle before standing me back up. “Once you’re properly milked, you’ll feel much better. I promise.”

Tears prick my eyes as I blink at her. I wish I could speak, to tell her how grateful I am for her small amount of kindness. She didn’t have to be nice. She could have been cruel, like Nagán.

Again, my mind turns to his brother, Vrokjan. Just picturing his muscular body scatters all other thoughts. The way he touched me, treated me… He was different, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my body burn.