Page 40 of Milked for the Holidays

With a soft smile, he leads me over to a mirror and stands behind me. He towers over me with my head coming to about the top of his chest. Although I’m built a little larger than some women, his shoulders are still far broader than mine.

He engulfs me, making my curvy frame feel small for the first time in my life. Tears dot my eyes, but this time, they’re for happy reasons. All my life, I wanted to feel small, delicate, and now, I do. It’s a shame I had to be dragged to a strange planet to find that.

On Earth, there was no way anyone other than a bodybuilder could pick me up without having to brace first, much less run through a field with me cradled in their arms as if I weighed nothing. And the men who could, didn’t seem to want me.

But Vrokjan wants me. His grip is rough, obsessive as he touches me, branding my skin with every stroke of his fingers. His eyes are nearly black as he stares at me in the reflective surface. And if I have any doubt of his affection, I can feel the hard proof of it grinding against me.

He slides his hands around my waist and pulls me back into him. “Mine,” he growls, the possessive sound rumbling through me, reigniting the arousal thrumming through my veins.

Turning me in his arms, he kisses me all over, his touch soft, nearly reverent. I quake at the delicate sensations fluttering over my skin. Perhaps Icora isn’t so bad after all. Perhaps I can now rest and trust someone else to take care of me. Lord knows I didn’t get much help on Earth.

A soft moan shatters the silence, drawing Vrokjan’s gaze to mine. “You are mine, Jessica. Never forget that.”

Pulling away, he leaves me again. I tremble at the loss of his warm skin against mine. This time, however, it’s not weakness. My body isn’t betraying me, at least not in that way. My pussy, however, spasms as I think about his tongue and fingers delving back inside.

I’m a hopeless mess. Turning back to the mirror, I run my fingers along the silvery fabric, smiling as I take in the sight of how it frames me. With a soft giggle, I tap the ornament, watching as it sways back and forth.

On Earth, I thought my life had ended, coming to a complete standstill. But here, I can be free. I feel the need beating inside me, demanding to come out. I want so desperately to give in and allow Vrokjan to have his way.

It’s a battlefield in my mind. One side wants to not think or feel. It just wants to be his good little cow, existing to be milked and fucked. The other side, the responsible side, feels a massive wave of guilt from turning my back on Earth and the memories it holds.

But honestly, how long can I mourn my mother? She would want me to be happy. Right? Granted, probably not like this. A soft smile tilts up my lips as I picture her standing in the living room as I tell her my plans to be a sex cow.

She wouldn’t understand it, but she’d want me to follow my dreams and to be happy. Not that this is an actual dream of mine. It’s the sentiment of being free that I seek, not caring right now what package it comes in.

Vrokjan steps back into the room, an odd object in his hand. All thoughts and memories flee as he strides toward me. Each movement is sleek and lethal, like the jungle cats I used to watch on TV.

“Crawl up onto the bed on all fours.”

Arousal burns through me as I obey him, desperate for another orgasm before dinner. His warm lips skim my ass cheek as he slides his fingers across my lower lips. Groaning, I arch my back, thrusting my ass into his face.

He pulls away, and I nearly moo, desperate to have him fill me up. Instead of his fingers, however, the blunt tip of the object prods my entrance. I seize up, unsure of what he plans to do to me.

Sensing my unease, he whispers to me, murmuring words of praise and comfort. Once I relax, he pushes it in. It’s an odd sensation, full and heavy. Honestly, it feels similar to the plug in my ass, only there’s no tail that I can feel at the other end.

He strokes my clit once more, scattering my worries and uneasy thoughts. As I near my orgasm, the thing inside me moves. It writhes, twitching back and forth. Vrokjan pulls his hand away and attaches some straps around my thighs.

“Don’t worry, my pet. You won’t have to wear this for long. Just until your body is ready to accept my cock.”

Climbing onto the bed, he stretches out and motions for me to come to him. He wants me to sit on his face again. I just know it. Crawling forward, I ease my thighs around his head, forcing myself to breathe.

It’s still an odd sensation, knowing I can ride his face without fear of hurting him. Deep inside, the object begins to swell, stretching me out. Whimpering, I lower myself onto Vrokjan's lips, hoping he’ll be able to ease the discomfort.

His hands wrap around my ass to pry my cheeks apart as he tugs on my tail. Warring sensations race through me as pain and pleasure collide. The moment his tongue snakes out to lap against my clit, it tips the scales toward pleasure.

Reaching down between my thighs, I run my fingers over his hair. For a moment, I’m disappointed that it’s so short, but his talented tongue drives it out of my head. I grab the back of the bed instead and grind against him, seeking out my orgasm.

The ornaments bounce against the hard wood as I ride his face, sending out a loud thwack with each thrust of my hips. Somehow, it makes the whole scene even more erotic. I can literally hear the sound of my pleasure as the smacks against the wood come faster and faster.

My fingers scrabble over the headboard as my orgasm hovers just out of reach. The infernal machine inside continues to pulse, stretching and growing as my pleasure mounts. The pain only ramps up the pleasure as I drop my hands back down to his head.

I don’t care that there’s no hair to grab onto. There’s an intense need to be connected, to touch him as his tongue dances over my clit. My body aches as I continue to strain, shifting back and forth as I chase the pleasurable high he’s giving me.

The machine swells again, this time bulging enough to rub against the plug in my ass through the skin separating them. This new sensation tips me over the edge. With a loud scream, I dig my fingers into his scalp as my thighs quiver around his head.

I rock back and forth, riding out the orgasm as pleasurable shocks and quakes sizzle through me. My lungs burn as I gulp in air, trying to come down off of that high. Vrokjan eases me off of him and once more leaves the room.

Why can’t he just stay and hold me for a minute or two? Why is he always running off? I curl into myself, trying desperately not to cry.