Breast Milk Masochism


Bdsm, Erotica, First-Time, Hardcore, Masturbation
Jennifer 's breasts ached as she moved. That was alright, though. She liked that.

Lifting her limb above her head with a sigh, she slowly moved her soundbox into the next yoga pose. Bending her forward leg, she stretched the former out behind her, the apparent motion naturally making her upper eubstance bend to push out her sore, operose chest. Both of her breasts lifted as she raised her arms, sending little spark of pain up her prickle. Biting her lip, she forced herself to sustain the pose, even though the damp spot on her yoga drawers was already down to mid thigh.

Ever since she had hit puberty, Jennifer had been particularly well endowed through the chest. Once she had begun to develop, she 'd filled out quickly, reaching a C-cup before some of her peer were even out of training bras. This had made her an target of some envy in the early twelvemonth of high school, alongside a few early fortunate lady friend with a similar chassis. However, where the increase of other miss had stopped, Jennifer 's breasts had kept going. While other large-chested miss began to register signal of sagging or lopsidedness, she stayed pert even as she bought her first E-cup bra, the sizing of each breast in everlasting symmetry. At reaching an F-cup, Jennifer 's parents had started to interest about back number, and taken her to a doc for recommendations about a reduction. She 'd viciously fought against the possibility, though mostly out of a disaffected urge rather than any real horse sense of pride in her chest, and so instead of operating theatre had instead been given a strict usage routine to strengthen her magnetic core.

Every day since then, Jennifer had worked out diligently to maintain a unattackable abdomen and small back, and as a result had never experienced so much as a twinge of backache from her breast. As an tot 'side effect'of her daily workout, she also maintained a healthy weight with ease, staying fit and gumptious all through her lifetime. Now an grownup, her consistence had filled out into a top-heavy bender, with wide of the mark pelvic girdle that were still overshadowed by her ridiculously massive bust. Though she 'd finished development, she 'd had to begin buying distinctiveness N-cup brassiere to maintain her bureau in assay, each business firm, high breast fully orotund than her head. If she lifted her tits up with her arms, she did n't even have to bend her neck to land her puffy pinko nipples within reach of her own lips.

Reaching a enumeration of forty in her read/write head, Jennifer shifted to the future pose. Her munition spread out in a 'T', one pointed ahead of her, the former behind. Her branch were to stay put in the Saame position as the premature pose, though she shifted from her exit leg being in front, instead stretching it behind and bending her right leg before her, knee making a nearly 90 degree Angle. Having her coat of arms pointed forward and back like this made her torso twist slightly to the incline, one bicep pressing against the face of her well-endowed breast. The bare skin was tight and firm, noticeably hotter than the material body of her arm. She shivered in rousing, then started to look again.

With such consummate and oversize knocker, Jennifer had been the object of intense male attention ever since freshman yr. Naturally shy, she 'd rejected the progression of her classmates for a long clip, going so far as to shun public socializing almost completely outside of school day. Instead, she had turned to the internet for her social motive, immersing herself in many cultivation and pursuit, learning about thing online while meeting a lot of new citizenry. For the most region this had been a very dear experience, and had helped her to ward off the stress and embarrassment of being constantly ogled, her online booster having no clue about her extreme point endowment.

However, in all her browsing, she had also come across something that every Pres Young individual soon finds online. erotica.

Down that rabbit hole had come an exposure to melodic theme and twirl that the Cy Young Jennifer had never dreamed of in her uncivilised pubescent fantasy. She saw her first hammer in high-definition point, all-inclusive eyes taking it in upon her projection screen. In picture and pictures, she found women with breasts even big than her own, giving her a certain sense of security in knowing she was n't the but one in the man who was so extremely endowed. As she continued to surf, she had homed in on the matter that turned her on virtually, finding them from amid the limitless spectrum of bacchanal available online. Certain hoodoo attracted her over and over, slowly sticking to her growing sex and becoming integral theatrical role of it. Unsurprisingly, these twirl had all focused heavily upon her titty.

It was time to reposition again. Knowing her procedure by heart, Jennifer felt a swoon signified of trepidation, fully expecting this pose to be the hardest 40 seconds of her day. Straightening up, she carefully moved her intact body into a farsighted vertical line, arms upraised and legs together. Then, precariously balancing on one foot, she tilted her torso forward and one leg back, until her entire physical structure was a skew-whiff 'T'flesh with her renal pelvis forming the juncture. The position made the wet fabric of her yoga pants rub up against her pantiless pussy, and her operose knocker threatened to pluck her off equilibrium as they hung. Her supporting leg trembled, making her chest jiggle and causing minuscule waves of bother to incite through her, which in turn sent chill of arousal up her spine. Jennifer let herself set out to groan as she held the pose, softly and repetitively, focusing on the throbbing in her chest and pussy. A current of botheration and joy sparked between them like negative and incontrovertible terminals on a battery, surging with each metre of her heart.

It was impossible to count how many times over her life she 'd cum to a video of tit contumely, watching a daughter with mamilla like hers getting them beaten and bruised, pierced or cut, whipped or tied. Some of this she 'd carefully tried on herself while alone. These experimentation had quickly precede her to discover something about herself, a revelation that appeared in her mind as she choked on cry of pain, tears running down her buttock while she came harder than she ever had in her life-time. While she 'd known she was a masochist almost as soon as she 'd found BDSM porn, she 'd learned that hurting her tits turned her on like nothing else. Perhaps because of the sexual attending they garnered, her breasts had become something obscene in her mind, a link for all her perverted desires and touch.

As she explored her masochism to a greater extent and more, Jennifer slowly became fascinated with the idea of being mistreated because of her Brobdingnagian teat, addressed and used like some sex toy instead of a individual. Though she 'd refrained from relationships, she found that she loved the mind of being mortal 's slut, deserving no more than the delight her body could leave. In her fancy, her breasts marked her for what she was, and were a focal compass point of any degradation and mistreatment at the hands of her lord. When she was feeling particularly horny and experimental, she 'd write filthy things on them in mark, or praxis giving slavish titjobs to one of her dildos, spitting onto her cleavage for lubrication.

Finally reaching the enumeration of forty, Jennifer let her trembling body relax out of the torturous posture. A small whine escaped her lips as she placed her back fundament against the ground once more, forming an inverted'V'with her leg. The shift of weight had made her thorax throb, but it was null compared to the pain that ran through her when she next moved, twisting her trunk to the side and spreading her subdivision. One hand touched her forward pes, the other trembling arm pointed up towards the ceiling. As her knocker had gone from hanging straight down to hanging almost sideways, they 'd bounced against each other, sending such an aching of torment through Jennifer that she almost collapsed.

Even more exciting than either of her earlier fetishes, however, was a more Holocene intimate fascination.

After graduating from college, Jennifer had reconnected with an old acquaintance. The young woman had already started a kin, and though Jennifer had dissimilar design for her own life story, she did n't necessarily reject. She 'd played with the cute babe, endured some breastfeeding jokes from her supporter 's hubby, and spent a hebdomad doing some babysitting to let the newlywed have some only time.

Around that clip, she had started lactating.

This had concerned her slightly, along with evoking other, more complicated emotions. Looking it up online, she 'd found that vulnerability to a newborn baby could hit some women lactate, a supposed harmonic answer brought on by pheromones. For her it had come on especially quickly, it seemed.

Even after she 'd stopped caring for the baby, she 'd continued to extract milk. Intrigued Thomas More than she 'd expected to be, she 'd crush out a few drops of pure white from her puffy nipples each day, and the routine had kept her leaking. More and more started to hail out as she started to milk herself while watching lactation porn, offering to do her friend 's laundry in the Bob Hope that exposure to the pheromones in the apparel would keep her milky. Together these increased her production enough that she had to start wearing pads in her bra when she went out, though since she mostly worked from dwelling that was a rare motive. In private, she 'd go around in a t-shirt and bra, waiting until the Milk stains showed through, then masturbating furiously while roughly milking herself.

It was time for the resting poses, and Jennifer lowered herself into the firstly of them with a tingle of relief. Her physical structure ached from the drill, but it was nothing compared to how her naked breasts throbbed. Placing herself on hands and knees, implements of war straight and shinbone against the floor, she looked down at her own chest. They 'd been N-cups before, and she 'd never expected them to maturate any bigger. Now, they were large O 's.

In clock time, her burgeoning new juju had grown into an obsession.

She 'd bought a heart first, starting to use it to milk herself every day. Usually, she 'd receive a vibrating wand pressed against her pussy the entire time her milk was pouring out, watching it spurt from herself with a low moan of arousal coming from her throat. Soon she had become infatuated with the idea of producing as much milk as she could, and acquired some music and postscript through sometimes questionable means. Estradiol, domperidone, fenugreek - anything that she thought could increase that warmly, delicious flow from her tit. Adjustments to her diet had let her keep up the unceasing release of alimental milk, and though her body had still increased slightly in weight, it was all to the welfare of her curves.

Combined with the constant milking and her natural breast sizing, after three months of lactating Jennifer had eventually measured herself at an average output of 115 oz per day. Nearly a gallon of milk. It was so much that she 'd started to experience trouble disposing of it all, though eventually she 'd located a milk cant willing to subscribe donations. For her, it was n't about the Milk itself, it was about the way it made her find to raise it inside herself, then to let it out of her in great milky effusion or perpetual drippage menses. The esthesis was not quite like being a cow ... it was more like all she was was just a pair of breasts, and that they were doing what breast were meant to do. It was an obscene thing, and she would shudder in orgasm each night imagining individual mocking her tits for their constant leaking, stepping on them so it spurted out harder, and interchangeable mistreatment. Everything about lactating so much played into her other fetish, and she felt like she never wanted to kibosh.

Pulling her stifle beneath her trunk, Jennifer placed her weapon before her as if praying towards the wall. Her breasts hung against the ground, tips brushing against the carpet. The sensation against her mamilla was muted by the strip of waterproof grim taping covering them, match'X'es completely hiding the hard nitty-gritty. They sealed all milk from leaking from her, though it had taken a few tries to determine the aright variety of taping and correctly amount of insurance coverage to accomplish that. It was her preferred way of preventing herself from expressing, on the rare function she did n't want to. Whenever she could, she 'd often go around her house constantly dripping, staining a shirt, or simply spraying Milk River while not even having to touch herself.

It had been about month of constant extreme point Milk River production since she 'd hit her height, with her dead body was only getting better at enduring it each day. It was to the item that she could lactate for hours if she simply let herself leak out, changeless watercourse of blanched dripping down her nipples onto a towel pressed against her belly. If she wanted to prevent herself from soaking through her shirt when she went out, her only option were to milk herself empty with heart beforehand, or to videotape up her nipples. Whenever she chose the latter, she could always palpate the force per unit area edifice inside, an exciting sense impression that made her feel almost as hot as if she were lactating in world. Whenever she finally got home and took off the tape measure, she would release all her stored Milk in a rush, a superstar that never failed to leave her wet and panting.

However, she still yearned for more. In achieving her body 's maximal possible lactation, she felt she had become what she was always meant to be, yet she still had been the only one to enjoy the pleasance of her obscenely monumental, milky tits. She wanted to finger another 's rough hands squeezing the hot T. H. White spray from her nipples, delivering the harsh abuse that her body deserved. Looking at her creamy pale titmouse, she would conceive of them bruised and battered, bitten and written on. Despite her attractive qualities, she was still a virgin, having never even been seen naked by a man. The intellection of her first sexual contact being casual, degrading, even awful ... it was more entice to her than she knew it should be.

turning slowly, Jennifer rolled herself onto her back, staring up at the cap and panting softly as she splayed out, adopting the final exam airs. With her limbs spread, her breasts hung heavy from her chest, massively engorged with Milk River. It had been two day since she last let herself utter, though she had still continued with her regular diet and medication routine. Two days each where she could have milked out nearly a creamy gal from her tits, and instead had left her nipples taped, holding the cherubic liquid in. She had n't gone so long without milking herself since she had first gear begun to lactate, now nearly a quarter year ago. The temptation to release had been hard to reject, growing harder with each 60 minutes that her breasts'fullness increased, making them them more and More achingly cutter to the tactile sensation. It had to be let out soon, and would be.

Two weeks ago, Jennifer had filmed herself doing yoga in just her gasp, much as she was now, but without her nipples taped. Without them sealed, she had leaked in a constant atomiser throughout her entire half-hour long routine, her foreplay visibly increasing as her tight yoga pants soaked at her twat. Part of her excitation that day had been knowing someone would watch the picture, but mostly it was just the feeling of milk leaking out of her, the menstruum unceasing and uncontrolled. Being on camera like that made her feel as if she were just a pair of tit, meant to make Milk and smell sexy, toy breast for person to enjoy.

After appending a minor talking to prior to the yoga appearance, in which she 'd professionally explained her desires and ideas, she 'd submitted the picture to a local BDSM nightspot under the form of address 'Breast Milk Masochism'. Her look had been blurred, the nidus entirely on her consistency ... a slow down buildup of anticipation, a slow press release of milk, both of them constant as she moved and displayed herself in the semisexual affectation of yoga. Then, at the end ...

lying compressed on her back, Jennifer reached the count of 40, and her number ended. She lay there for a moment longer, remembering what she 'd done at the end of the video at this point in her exercise, replaying it in her head teacher. The memory made her arousal flare, and a sudden urge overtook her, irresistible to her after the harrowing ribbing she 'd just put herself though. Raising a shaky manus up, she bit her lip, closing her eyes as she braced herself. Then, with the lustful sound of flesh smacking flesh, she slapped her right tit as hard as she possibly could, weakly crying out in pain. She almost imagined she could feel the milk in her white meat slosh as the great tit rippled and swayed from the impact, so heavy that the waves bounced back and forth through the firm pulp. Sharp torture had coursed through her at the hit, making her dork, but now the painfulness was only a hot, bite ache that pulsed in strength to the metre of her heart.

She slapped herself again, sobbing as the pain hit, crying running down her cheek as her fingertips tapped her difficult, taped nipple. The confidential information of her white meat were unspeakably sensitive, and she pressed her hand over the agonized soma, filled with a desire to rip the tape off and milk herself until she had nothing left hand. Barely resisting the impulse, she whacked her cupped medal against the underside of the Saami tit, choking off a impudent round of cocksucker as the aching flesh was pushed upward, jiggling and making her good milk secretory organ throb.

In the video, Jennifer had been much more broad with her abuse, paddling and punching her own bosom, never even touching her pussy as she subjected her lactating tits to everything short of torture. By the time she was done, they had been bruised and reddened, swollen from pain sensation and stained with tears and milk. The white pool in front of Jennifer had looked as if someone had spilled a full moon drinking glass of milk on the level, a answer of her squirting out harder with each impact. In the end, she 'd cum just from hurting her breasts, a final wet pull of her puffy pinko nipple sending her over the edge.

Trying to do the Lapplander to herself now was too grave, engorged as she was. Yet, the three smack to her milk-swollen breast had hurt more than the entirety of her torture during the transcription. Jennifer felt herself trembling at the verge of masochistic climax, unable to summon the will to hurt herself again. If she could only milk herself, let herself express, she knew she could cum from letting that sweet rate of flow out through her aching tit. But, she could n't ... not yet.

Instead, Jennifer reached down, touching her hard button through the blind drunk fabric of her yoga knickers. A simple brush of the fingers was all it took, and she was crying out, pressing hard against the sensitive nub as her book binding arched and her operose breast heaved. The shock of delight through her body filled her up, her muscles tensing, mouth open in an'o'of ecstasy as she cramped even as she came, the hot pain of her tit making her ache in a way that had nothing to do with their painful fullness or her stinging slaps.

The wave of climax slowly ebbed, and Jennifer slumped back against the scant sissiness of the yoga mat, breathing heavily. Slowly, the ache and cramps started to blow over, the weariness in her limb giving way to an energetic need to displace. Her turmoil had been growing with each mo she came closer to tonight, starting from the bit she had received an confirmation from the BDSM golf club she had submitted to, inviting her to come and give their fellow member a practical demonstration of her compliance. She had been storing up her Milk ever since she had gotten the missive, wanting to have as much to leak out as she could during her number 1 night at the club.

Attached to Jennifer 's invitation had been a small brass key, with a short secondary winding billet containing instructions on where to go and when. She was n't a broad member yet, merely an beginner. Her scene of being invited again depended upon how she presented herself tonight, how well the people of the club enjoyed her. She almost did n't care. All she wanted was the experience of having her milk-laden knocker at the mercy of others.

prevarication there on the ground with her body thrumming with agitation and aching afterglow, Jennifer ran her work force over her Brobdingnagian, full breasts, biting her lip at the pleasant notion. Her warmup was finished, and the pain and pleasure of it had only left her thirsting for more. The club would open in an hour, and she would be allowed in not retentive after.

It was time to get ready.

-- -

Jennifer was used to citizenry staring at her when she went out. Men, fair sex, and even tike. With bosom like hers protruding almost a foot from her movement, it was unsufferable not to attract attending, regardless of how she dressed or acted. Typically, all this attention did was make her feel self-conscious, though if she was in a rare exhibitionist climate, citizenry looking at her nipple might turn her on a little.

However, walking now down a low temperature city street with her dead body covered by only a trenchcoat and a pair of high heels, each slight glimpse hit her like a physical touch. She felt like everyone could see right through the dense trenchcoat, her naked body beneath feeling hot and flushed despite the chill steer blowing through the crowd. Her pap were punishing beneath their tape, and whenever someone bumped up against her she would burn her lip to keep from crying out at the star, pain and joy both coursing through her.

Each step she took towards the club brought her finisher to sweet going, and it was hard to observe herself from pushing through the crowd, sprinting down towards the back street she was headed for. In her sac, her trembling fingers tightly gripped the small organisation key she 'd been sent. Hot wetness trickled down her bare inner thigh, and she wondered what would await her. Really, she had no idea. The bank bill had been vague, only letting her know that her wish to have her titty abused would be fulfilled, and not to occupy about any passel she might make with her milk. It had made no demands as to how she should set, or anything to add, bring through for herself and the key. All she knew was where to go.

After what seemed like hours of walking, but what her phone told her had only been 5 minutes, Jennifer stumbled into the alley on shaky legs. Her nipple throbbed, her pussy twitching in response, her motivation at a fever auction pitch. She wanted to be milked, to be hurt, to cum. Partially, she knew that she 'd done this to herself on purpose, denied herself from milking so that she would be able to overcome her shyness and let somebody else do it. Her stimulation was making her bolder than she would be, the lustfulness filling her body and making her willing to do almost anything for that sweet, sexual release.

Passing by a chucker-out guarding the mouth of the alleyway, she halfway took her key from her air hole before he nodded, jerking his foreland towards a door further down. She murmured her thanks, blushing deeply as she clutched her trenchcoat, embarrassment making her flavour as if she had to keep it tightly closed despite the fastened buttons.

Opening the door, she found a small room with two hallway leading off it, the welcoming fondness of air conditioning rushing up inside her trenchcoat. Suddenly feeling a slackening seminal fluid over her, Jennifer inspected a orotund handwritten mark that had been mounted on the wall, elegantly flowing listing directions in crank upon slate.

`` stock breeder - elbow room 1, Left Hall ''

`` milk Slut - way 3, Left Hall ''

`` Femdom group - Room 2, right hand vestibule ''

`` New slave - hold up Door, right wing dorm ''

grinning slightly at her unknown companions on the inclination, Jennifer went left, letting go of her trenchcoat and taking out the key. Her laborious titty bounced with every step of her high blackguard, but she relished the painfulness without wincing at it, knowing it was only a midget tasting of what was to come.

After passing two doors in the dimly lit dormitory, Jennifer turned with a pounding center towards the third, looking down at the incised organization handle. Slotting her key inside, she twisted it, then pushed the handle down.

Part of her almost expected it not to work. That she 'd have to go habitation unrealized, or seek out assistant while dressed in nothing but a coating. Instead, the door swung candid with repose, giving Jennifer her first look of the room where her slutty tits would finally be given what they deserved.

It was sparsely furnished, the carpeting of the hall giving way to polished marble floor. There was a drain in one corner, and the rampart were covered in rough-textured leather cushioning. hooking in the ceiling intrigued her, but it was impossible for her to disregard the one feature in the room clearly meant for her to use.

Jessica closed the door behind her, approaching the far wall with breath held. Kneeling down, she ran her fingerbreadth around the exterior of one of the two holes cut into the wall, each as bombastic around as a person 's head, placed so close together they were almost joined. The room she was in was dim, but picayune light shone in through the other side of the hole. She could hear quiet voices, smell the aroma of sex coming in from that other room. It had to be filled with clubgoers, the form of people who would n't pause to mistreat an repulsive distich of knocker like hers.

She shivered, kneeling in strawman of the tit-gloryhole, staring at it. Slowly, it came to her that they must be waiting on her, ready for their toy to evidence up so they could bear their fun. Her pussy throbbed at the thought, and she began to bodge with the release of her trenchcoat, finally popping enough of them off that she could rip the garment disembarrass. With desperate hired man, she started to urge on her breasts through the hole, shuffling forward on her genu so her body was pressed up against the wall. Despite their sizeableness, the cakehole were n't big enough for her to fit through easily, and she had to massage the entire, firm form through, pushing it through with her fingers until finally her chest was pressed directly against the leather-lined pickle. Her body now was in one elbow room, her tit in another. Exposed to strangers. Totally vulnerable, her emplacement making it impossible to jerk away quickly.

A representative came over an unseen intercommunication system, and Jessica jumped as it spoke in a deform electronic vocalisation. `` The dependable password is four hard rap on the paries, '' it informed her. `` If you can brave 30 minutes, you will be reinvited. '' It cut off with a crepitation, and Jessica started to pant slightly, butterflies fluttering in her belly as she felt her huge milk-loaded teat hang against the former slope of the wall. 30 minutes. Too bad she 'd left her phone in her trenchcoat, a few feet away on the floor behind her. There was no former way to recite the sentence ...

Something touched her nipple, and Jennifer froze. They continued to fondle her hard nub through the mag tape, making her quiver as she pressed up against the wall, her nails digging into the sonant leather. It felt like finger, the number 1 ones that were not her own to ever touch her chest. She thought whoever was on the other English must be able to hear her heart pounding, rapidly thrumming inside her as the tape was slowly peeled from one of her nipples.

Immediately, she felt the yummy sensation of milk pouring from her, a dense dribbling that ran hot down her pelt. Letting out a moan, Jennifer started to slide a hand down to meet between her legs, replete taking over as her rousing surged. Before she could move her finger's breadth down far, they brushed a hold set into the wall, something she 'd missed in her rush to get her breasts shoved through the gloryhole. Her mind focused on it briefly, and she made a sudden snap determination, gripping the grip. She would n't touch herself. She had n't had to when she 'd been abusing herself on television camera, so she should n't induce to now. This was a club for masochists like her, and she should be the respectable little milk masochist she could be for these others.

As that thought resolved in her mind in the moment following her expression of Milk River, another pair of finger's breadth ripped off the tapeline of her other tit. Gasping, Jennifer felt both breasts leaking now, a laborious flow of milk pouring in hot fountains from her overfilled knocker. Between her legs, a rill of wetness ran down her thigh, a blanch mirror to the multiple streams of Milk River coursing down her breasts and dripping onto the floor of the former room.

Enticed by the delicious sight, one of the clubgoers pressed a palm up against the undersurface of Jennifer 's left field breast, causing a sudden spray of milk from the illuminate press as they lifted the heavy shape. Jennifer moaned, not holding anything back as she rested her forehead against the plod leather wall. Her fingers gripped the handles with white knuckles, her body trembling with eagerness. She could palpate the hot milk exiting her fat, overloaded tit in a gout, the heavy flow feeling so near as it surged through her operose nipple, relieving the terrible pressure inside.

A pair of lips wrapped around the tip of her tit, causing Jennifer 's centre to snap open. She panted, the wet rut of another mortal 's mouth around her sensitive milklike nipple making her squirm in pleasance. Then, they began to suck. A quiver of pure rapture ran through her, a pulsation of pleasance that swelled with each increase in the suction on her skin. Milk River was drawn out of her so rapidly her pap began to ache, the liquid almost touch as if it were being torn from her mammilla by the concentrated sucking. It completely filled the sassing of the unknown clubgoer more than twice, cupful of sweet sinlessness expressed in a tingling pleasurable rest period. Yet, even when the back talk popped from her wet skin, she could feel herself still leaking. It made her shiver in happiness at how far she 'd pushed her physical structure 's capacity to lactate, making herself into the sodding twain of toy tits for these hoi polloi to trifle with.

Jennifer heard a feminine giggle cum from the early side, then the tactile sensation of a cool, shine piece of kink looking glass pressing against her skin, collecting the dripping flow from her right hand mammilla. A cup, perhaps held by a clubgoer who had too much self-worth to drink in straight from the source. Her right tit was still engorged, throbbing with a dull pain in the neck that sharpened suddenly as two ticklish helping hand wrapped around it at the base. Slowly, they simultaneously squeezed her flesh and slid down her bosom, moving towards the tip. Jennifer 's body started to shudder with joy, her mind blanking, focused entirely on the tactual sensation of her breast being milked like an udder, her creamy milk filling up individual 's spyglass on the early side of the wall. Being used like a drunkenness dispenser made her more wet than any measure of self-milking ever could, and she felt defeated when the hands only gave her a single pull, though her breast felt more comfortable without being stuffed to capacity.

While her nipples were still tingling and wet from her balmy milking, Jennifer felt the first tactual sensation of nuisance at the hands of the alien. The leather tip of a riding crop snapped against her pap without warning, the sharp biting sensation of its shock fading quickly into a warm aching as her breast jiggled. Though she 'd known she 'd be hurt, it came as a daze, and she realized she had been favourable even to get a teasing taste of delight before the misuse began. She bit her lip, trying to thrust her chest out for more, though her tits were already pushed as far into the early room as they could be. Another hit came, impacting her former mammilla and sending a squirt of milk from her as she cried out at the torture. Her cunt convulsed, squeezing around cipher as the annoyance throbbed in the tender tip of her tit. Unconsciously, she braced herself for the side by side strike, eager for more than.

But it was not the riding craw to hit her, when pain lanced through her adjacent. Instead, a poke hit her soft, hanging pulp, and Jennifer let out a appalled sob, trailing off into a gasp of pleasure as her bruised soma bounced. Another hit came, knocking one boob sharply against the other, the obscene sound of hide slapping together echoing in her ear as she felt her milk atomiser with each wallop. This was everything she 'd ever wanted, milking and abuse, objectification and casual use. Whoever was on the other side was strong, a faceless brute that used her pap like punching bags without a tinge of mercy. Over and over he struck her, and with each clock time the knuckles slammed into her indulgent human body, she imagined the bruises she would give birth. Marring her perfect creamy skin, covering her beautiful, massive breasts. It was enough to ignite her masochism to new altitude, and she was disappointed when the strikes stopped coming. A part of her had wanted him to never stop, to celebrate going until her breasts were beat bloody.

`` More, '' she moaned, her mouth shut to the bulwark. Her tit throbbed, but with a new, hot pain instead of the damp ache from before. It made her want them to keep going, to abuse her until the pain built up to a coming. She was already close, so close. The excitement of it all had her body thrumming with foreplay, her trembling thigh soaked with her wetness. Her nipples trembled with vibrations of each rapid beat of her warmness, droplets of milk constantly weeping from her huge reddened tits. They still felt so full, wide enough for minute of milking. `` More ! '' she wept, not noticing the split on her own cheeks.

Something small, delicate and slightly wet pressed against her tegument, a teasing touch that cooled the inflamed rut of her pommel boob. It felt pleasant, and confused Jennifer in her lust-addled state as it began to skid across her tits, taking odd swirls across her form. It would commit away for the brief second, then riposte, making a few quick motility before doing the same thing again ...

They were writing on her.

Another mark tip pressed against her skin on the former breast, the Lapplander tiny wet point of wizard, scratching out a countersign or two. She wished she could read what they were writing, know what they had labeled her as. Even imagining the opening made her rub her thigh together, whimpering at the need she felt to be hurt further. This was to card her, she knew. A time for her arousal to cool before they stoked it high once again, for they knew she would enjoy this pain. Even without seeing her, they controlled her. And she loved it.

After a minute or so of piece of writing, Jennifer felt something firm and flat swoop beneath her breast. It supported them, the slew undersurface of her tits resting upon its control surface, which seemed horse barn and sturdy. It all puzzled her for a moment, though she enjoyed the feeling of her milk puddling around her hot skin, as well as the incumbrance this took off her back, strong though she was. Relishing these mavin, she found herself totally unprepared for when the next strike came.

A booted pes slammed down onto Jennifer 's left hand knocker, spraying milk so hard from the sudden pressure that Jennifer thought her nipple might pop off. It crushed down on her build, and she screamed, hips convulsing as she was filled with the annoyance. The weighting of the someone stayed on her, and she felt the milk fountain from the knocker under the kicking. It was hot, the heavy flow squirting out in a undivided thick stream. It must await so piteous, her hard nipple twitching as her tit was squished. Swallowing back a moan as she imagined it, Jennifer felt a impulse of heating system in her pussy, riding the edge of sexual climax as the cad of the metrical unit land against her.

When the flush finally lifted away, she did n't beg to ask for more this prison term. They 'd learn her plea, and knew how to answer them. A high up bounder stabbed down into her other breast within mo, pressing down into the sybaritic flesh, forming a rich divot before the toe of the shoe came down upon her teat. It crushed down on the spiritualist nub, grinding it against the smooth surface. That was when the sexual climax came. slit convulsing, squirting for the foremost sentence in her life, Jennifer lost all awareness of her body except for her breasts while that shoe danced and stepped over her expansive titflesh, the anonymous charwoman using her noesis of feminine sensitiveness to torture her with exacting sadism. Her intemperately nipples and clenching pussy ached with pain sensation and delight, the hot release of milk from her chest a perfumed undertone of ecstasy throughout the bestial handling of her chest. By the time her strange mistress stepped down off of her, Jennifer felt several sharply aching spots over the tops of her breast, places where the heel had plunged down onto her figure. It had never broken the skin, but it had been close.

With her throbbing breasts now covered in a coat of their own milk, Jennifer caught her breath, feeling her body quiver in the backwash of her sexual climax. It had gone on so long that she had lost cart track of time, multiple jar of agony lancing through her body to keep her climax peaking. Her breasts felt like tenderized meat, pummeled and stepped on, soaked and drawn upon. The surface they 'd been resting on was taken away, leaving them to fall toilsome against the wall once more. Jennifer had n't been able to see any of her brutal treatment, but in her judgement 's eye she saw her breasts as bruised, battered, misshapen and ruined, defaced by slutty penning marked upon her skin. Despite how much she 'd lost, she still had a swoon drivel of milk leaking from each mamilla, though she could feel she was mostly vacuous now. The opinion of the puddle that must deliver formed beneath the tit gloryhole on the early side made her smell a warm radiance of pride.

Her men slipped from the grip, fingers aching from gripping so hard for so long. A few moments went by with only the pounding of her knocker to keep her company, and Jennifer began to wonder if her time was up. Had she passed ? It was hard for her to judge time ... the thought of it being over made her disappointed, but happy she had done so well.

While she was considering pulling her knocker out of the mess a little so she could mark off the time on her telephone, Jennifer was stopped by a new sensation, surprising her into stillness. Her digit fluttered against the rampart as she felt two hands cupping her Brobdingnagian chest, lifting the heavy suspension physique. Biting her lip, Jennifer felt a moan rise in her throat as the two hands started to gently milk her, finger's breadth running along the sensitive undersurface of her breast. As the last of her milk was slowly squeezed out, she gave in to enticement, panting softly as she started to thumb herself. Her indigent golf hole clenched around her own finger, the feeling of being filled satisfying her body in a way even the masochistic orgasm had n't.

As the final free fall of Milk were squeezed from her oversized tits, Jennifer felt a hot, throbbing rod coast between the aching globe, enveloped within her expansive cleavage as the two hands pressed her breasts lightly together. Her breathing quickened, her fingers stilling inside her as she experienced the world-class turncock she 'd ever felt firsthand. unable to see it, she was shocked at how big it felt, how severely and ardent it was between her pillowy breasts. The man used her like a fucktoy, thrusting into her, her nipples brushing against his hips as he completely buried himself inside her cleavage.

Slowly, as the man started to have intercourse her breast more and more roughly, squeezing them and ramming his cock harder against them, Jennifer began to realize he was going to cum. Her tits were going to be covered in a strangers cum after he used them to get himself off. She could n't stop him, did n't want him to stop. The sentiment of her slutty pap being fucked while her holes went neglected was one of her deepest fantasy, and having it happen like this was even better than she 'd imagined. Her fingers picked back up, rapidly pumping into herself, trying to match the excited rhythm of his rooster. He was close, she could feel it, sense the same edge of penury that tinged his movement. The same whizz filled her, and lightly pinched her hard clit, biting her lip and whining loudly with pleasure.

Both of them came at the same time. She felt the hot cum, pasty as it pumped out onto her hide. Spreading it across her dresser, the man coated the round top of her breasts, glazing her nipples with his thick nerve while Jennifer shook and quivered, enjoying every free fall that was given to her while she climaxed. Even after the man pulled away, leaving her breasts marked with his seed, Jennifer continued to feel herself, torturing her clit and dragging out her orgasm until the pleasure became too much. Dropping her hands to the ground, she rested her cheek against the bulwark, panting raggedly.

The vocalism came over the intercom, androgynous and distorted with galvanising crepitation as before. `` Your time is concluded. You may draw and leave at your leisure time. Congratulations, and welcome to golf club Kobalt. ``

Jennifer smiled, feeling weak, used up, and utterly satisfied. Pulling her aching titmouse slowly through the gob, she made an try not to scrape off the cum on the tops of her breasts as she squeezed them back into the same room as the balance of her. Looking down, she shivered in happiness as she took in her own thorax. `` FUCKBAGS '' and `` MILKSLUT '' had been written on the tops of her breasts, along with other words mocking her huge endowments, though she 'd need time and a couple mirrors to read them all. The row were covered in circle of cum, which dripped from her mammilla like the Milk River she had so copiously spurted out. The odor of her suckling filled the room, wafting in through the hole, an olfactory sensation keyed to induce stimulation in her after so much sexual Milk River play on her own. Bruises were already forming, coin-sized ace covering her upper breasts where the heels had stomped down, her nipples acutely tender after being stepped on.

It 'd be a while before she could be rough with herself, letting her pap heal from the intense abuse they 'd suffered today. Still, she did n't repent the personnel casualty in the slightest as she shrugged on her trenchcoat, the cum and marker the only things on beneath it.

Buttoning it up, she decide to leave just enough exposed to show some of her mussy cleavage. Smiling to herself as she made her way back out into the city, Jennifer found herself already thinking about how she 'd dramatic play with herself after the long paseo family .
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