Jennifer 's breasts ached as she moved. That was alright, though. She liked that.

Lifting her arms above her head with a sigh, she slowly moved her body into the next yoga mannerism. Bending her forward leg, she stretched the other out behind her, the motion naturally making her pep pill body curve to crusade out her sore, expectant chest. Both of her knocker lifted as she raised her branch, sending trivial sparkles of hurting up her spine. Biting her lip, she forced herself to make the mannerism, even though the damp spot on her yoga bloomers was already down to mid thigh.

Ever since she had hit puberty, Jennifer had been particularly well endowed through the pectus. Once she had begun to develop, she 'd filled out quickly, reaching a C-cup before some of her peers were even out of training bras. This had made her an object of some envy in the early days of high school, alongside a few early fortunate girls with a like physique. However, where the growth of former little girl had stopped, Jennifer 's breasts had kept going. While other large-chested fille began to show sign of sagging or skewness, she stayed pert even as she bought her first E-cup bra, the size of each chest in hone symmetry. At reaching an F-cup, Jennifer 's parents had started to care about back yield, and taken her to a Doctor for recommendations about a reduction. She 'd viciously fought against the possibleness, though mostly out of a rebellious urge rather than any real sense of superbia in her thorax, and so instead of surgery had instead been given a strict physical exercise routine to tone her nitty-gritty.

Every day since then, Jennifer had worked out diligently to exert a strong abdomen and scurvy back, and as a issue had never experienced so much as a twinge of backache from her breast. As an add together 'side effect'of her everyday workout, she also maintained a healthy weight with simplicity, staying fit and energetic all through her life. Now an adult, her torso had filled out into a top-heavy curve, with widely hip that were still overshadowed by her ridiculously massive female chest. Though she 'd finished growing, she 'd had to commence buying specialty N-cup brassiere to have her dresser in check, each firm, high titty fully larger than her psyche. If she lifted her tits up with her arms, she did n't even have to deform her neck to fetch her puffy pink nipples within grasp of her own lips.

Reaching a tally of 40 in her chief, Jennifer shifted to the next pose. Her arms spread out in a 'T', one pointed ahead of her, the other rear end. Her legs were to last out in the same military position as the previous pose, though she shifted from her depart leg being in strawman, instead stretching it behind and bending her right leg before her, knee making a nearly 90 degree Angle. Having her blazon pointed forward and back like this made her torso twist slightly to the face, one bicep pressing against the incline of her well-endowed breast. The bare skin was fast and firm, noticeably hotter than the chassis of her arm. She shivered in arousal, then started to reckon again.

With such perfect and oversized knocker, Jennifer had been the object of intense male attention ever since freshman year. Naturally shy, she 'd rejected the advances of her classmates for a long time, going so far as to shun public socializing almost completely outside of schooltime. Instead, she had turned to the internet for her mixer needs, immersing herself in many cultures and hobbies, learning about things online while meeting a lot of new citizenry. For the most part this had been a very sound experience, and had helped her to avoid the focus and embarrassment of being constantly ogled, her on-line acquaintance having no clue about her extreme endowment.

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

down that coney mess had come an pic to ideas and crick that the young Jennifer had never dreamed of in her wildest pubescent fantasy. She saw her first pecker in high-definition point, wide eyes taking it in upon her screen. In videos and pictures, she found women with breasts even larger than her own, giving her a certain common sense of security measures in knowing she was n't the only one in the world who was so extremely endowed. As she continued to crop, she had homed in on the thing that turned her on most, finding them from amid the limitless spectrum of debauch available online. Certain juju attracted her over and over, slowly sticking to her growing sexuality and becoming constitutional parts of it. Unsurprisingly, these kinks had all focused heavily upon her titty.

It was time to reposition again. Knowing her procedure by inwardness, Jennifer felt a faint sense of trepidation, fully expecting this pose to be the firmly 40 seconds of her day. Straightening up, she carefully moved her intact body into a farsighted vertical line, weapons system upraised and legs together. Then, precariously balancing on one foot, she tilted her torso forward and one leg back, until her entire body was a lopsided 'T'shape with her pelvic arch forming the junction. The stance made the wet fabric of her yoga pants rub up against her pantiless pussy, and her gravid breasts threatened to pull her off balance as they hung. Her supporting leg trembled, making her bureau jiggle and causing footling waves of pain to move through her, which in turning get off shivers of arousal up her back. Jennifer let herself begin to groan as she held the pose, softly and repetitively, focusing on the throbbing in her breast and kitty-cat. A current of pain and pleasure sparked between them like negative and positive depot on a battery, surging with each round of her heart.

It was impossible to count how many times over her life history she 'd cum to a video of breast revilement, watching a girlfriend with tits 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 contribute her to get word something about herself, a Apocalypse that appeared in her creative thinker as she choked on rallying cry of hurting, tears running down her nerve while she came harder than she ever had in her biography. While she 'd known she was a masochist almost as soon as she 'd found BDSM pornography, she 'd learned that hurting her titty turned her on like nothing else. Perhaps because of the sexual attending they garnered, her breasts had become something obscene in her mind, a nexus for all her perverted desires and opinion.

As she explored her masochism more and more, Jennifer slowly became fascinated with the idea of being mistreated because of her huge tits, addressed and used like some sex toy instead of a person. Though she 'd refrained from family relationship, she found that she loved the idea of being someone 's loose woman, worth no more than the pleasance her consistence could pass. In her fantasies, her breasts marked her for what she was, and were a focal point of any degradation and mistreatment at the hands of her captain. When she was feeling particularly horny and experimental, she 'd indite filthy affair on them in marking, or pattern giving submissive titjobs to one of her dildos, spitting onto her cleavage for lubrication.

Finally reaching the reckoning of XL, Jennifer let her trembling body relax out of the torturous bearing. A small whine escaped her rim as she placed her back animal foot against the ground once more, forming an upside-down'V'with her peg. The geological fault of free weight had made her pectus pounding, but it was zip compared to the bother that ran through her when she next moved, twisting her torso to the side and spreading her arms. One hand touched her send on fundament, the early trembling arm pointed up towards the ceiling. As her breasts had gone from hanging straight down to hanging almost sideways, they 'd bounced against each early, sending such an aching of agony through Jennifer that she almost collapsed.

Even more excite than either of her to begin with fetishes, however, was a more recent sexual enthrallment.

After graduating from college, Jennifer had reconnected with an old Quaker. The young womanhood had already started a family, and though Jennifer had different programme for her own living, she did n't necessarily disapprove. She 'd played with the cute babe, endured some breastfeeding caper from her booster 's husband, and spent a week doing some babysitting to let the newlywed have some entirely time.

Around that time, she had started lactating.

This had concerned her slightly, along with evoking other, more complicated emotions. Looking it up online, she 'd receive that exposure to a newborn baby baby could make some women lactate, a supposed sympathetic 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 press out milk. Intrigued to a greater extent than she 'd expected to be, she 'd squelch out a few fall of pure white from her puffy nipples each day, and the routine had kept her leaking. more and more started to occur out as she started to milk herself while watching lactation porn, offering to do her champion 's wash in the hopes that exposure to the pheromones in the clothes would keep on her milky. Together these increased her production enough that she had to commence wearing pads in her bra when she went out, though since she mostly worked from home that was a rare demand. In private, she 'd go around in a tee 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 number 1 of them with a shudder of backup man. Her dead body ached from the exercise, but it was zero compared to how her defenseless white meat throbbed. Placing herself on hand and human knee, arms straight and shins against the floor, she looked down at her own pectus. They 'd been N-cups before, and she 'd never expected them to grow any bigger. Now, they were large O 's.

In fourth dimension, her burgeoning new fetish had grown into an obsession.

She 'd bought a pump first, starting to use it to milk herself every day. Usually, she 'd have a vibrating wand pressed against her pussy the total clock time her Milk was pouring out, watching it spirt from herself with a low groan 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 medication and supplement through sometimes questionable agency. estradiol, domperidone, fenugreek - anything that she thought could increase that warm, pleasant-tasting flow from her mamilla. Adjustments to her diet had let her keep up the constant outlet of nutritious Milk River, and though her torso had still increased slightly in weight, it was all to the benefit of her curves.

Combined with the constant milking and her instinctive breast size, after three months of lactating Jennifer had eventually measured herself at an fair output of 115 oz per day. Nearly a gallon of Milk River. It was so much that she 'd started to have trouble disposing of it all, though eventually she 'd located a Milk savings bank willing to accept donations. For her, it was n't about the milk itself, it was about the way it made her sense to farm it inside herself, then to let it out of her in nifty milky gushes or constant drip stream. The wizard was not quite like being a cow ... it was more like all she was was just a duad of chest, and that they were doing what breasts were meant to do. It was an obscene thing, and she would throb in sexual climax each Nox imagining someone mocking her tits for their invariable leaking, stepping on them so it spurted out harder, and similar mistreatment. Everything about lactating so very much played into her other fetishes, and she felt like she never wanted to stop.

pull her articulatio genus beneath her body, Jennifer placed her limb before her as if praying towards the wall. Her breasts hung against the ground, tips brushing against the rug. The sensation against her tit was muted by the strips of waterproof shameful tape recording covering them, twin'X'es completely hiding the hard nubs. They sealed all Milk from leaking from her, though it had taken a few try to find the mighty kind of tape recording and right quantity of coverage to accomplish that. It was her favourite way of preventing herself from expressing, on the uncommon occasions she did n't want to. Whenever she could, she 'd often go around her mansion constantly dripping, staining a shirt, or simply spraying milk while not even having to touch herself.

It had been about month of constant extremum milk product since she 'd hit her peak, with her body was only getting unspoiled at enduring it each day. It was to the point that she could lactate for hours if she simply let herself leak out, unremitting streams of white dripping down her tit onto a towel pressed against her belly. If she wanted to prevent herself from soaking through her shirt when she went out, her only options were to milk herself empty with pump beforehand, or to tape up her teat. Whenever she chose the latter, she could always finger the pressure building inside, an rouse virtuoso that made her feel almost as hot as if she were lactating in populace. Whenever she finally got home and took off the magnetic tape, she would release all her stored Milk in a rush, a esthesis that never failed to exit her wet and panting.

However, she still yearned for more. In achieving her torso 's maximum 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 pleasures of her obscenely massive, milky bosom. She wanted to feel another 's rough hand squeezing the hot Elwyn Brooks White spraying from her nipples, delivering the harsh abuse that her body deserved. Looking at her creamy pale titty, she would imagine them bruised and battered, sting and written on. Despite her attractive calibre, she was still a virgin, having never even been seen naked by a man. The thought of her initiative intimate contact being occasional, degrading, even dreadful ... it was more tempting to her than she knew it should be.

Turning slowly, Jennifer rolled herself onto her back, staring up at the ceiling and panting softly as she splayed out, adopting the final exam pose. With her limbs spread, her breast hung heavy from her breast, massively engorged with Milk River. It had been two days since she last let herself express, though she had still continued with her even diet and medication function. Two days each where she could have milked out nearly a creamy gallon from her tits, and instead had left her mamilla taped, holding the sweetly liquid state in. She had n't gone so long without milking herself since she had first begun to lactate, now nearly a one-fourth class ago. The enticement to release had been hard to resist, growing harder with each hour that her breasts'voluminousness increased, making them them Sir Thomas More and more achingly cutter to the touch. It had to be let out soon, and would be.

Two weeks ago, Jennifer had filmed herself doing yoga in just her pant, much as she was now, but without her mamilla taped. Without them sealed, she had leaked in a unremitting spray throughout her total half-hour farseeing routine, her arousal visibly increasing as her tight yoga pants soaked at her pussy. parting of her excitement that day had been knowing someone would follow the video, but mostly it was just the tactual sensation of Milk River leaking out of her, the flow unceasing and uncontrolled. Being on camera like that made her tactile property as if she were just a duad of white meat, meant to make Milk River and look sexy, toy knocker for someone to enjoy.

After appending a small-scale speech prior to the yoga display, in which she 'd professionally explained her desires and ideas, she 'd submitted the video to a local BDSM golf-club under the title 'Breast Milk Masochism'. Her brass had been blurred, the focusing entirely on her body ... a tiresome buildup of anticipation, a slow sack of milk, both of them constant as she moved and displayed herself in the semisexual poses of yoga. Then, at the end ...

fabrication savourless on her back, Jennifer reached the count of forty, and her function ended. She lay there for a present moment longer, remembering what she 'd done at the end of the TV at this point in her employment, replaying it in her head. The memory made her arousal flare, and a sudden itch overtook her, resistless to her after the torturing teasing she 'd just put herself though. Raising a shaky helping hand up, she bit her lip, closing her eye as she braced herself. Then, with the lewd phone of physique smacking human body, she slapped her right tit as hard as she possibly could, weakly crying out in pain in the neck. She almost imagined she could finger the milk in her breast slosh as the heavy tit rippled and swayed from the impact, so orotund that the waves bounced back and forth through the business firm soma. Sharp agony had coursed through her at the hit, making her jerk, but now the painful sensation was only a hot, stinging ache that pulsed in chroma to the pulsation of her heart.

She slapped herself again, sobbing as the pain hit, tears running down her cheeks as her fingertips tapped her heavily, taped nipple. The lead of her breasts were unspeakably medium, and she pressed her hand over the agonized human body, filled with a desire to rip the tape off and milk herself until she had zilch left. Barely resisting the urge, she whacked her cupped palm against the underside of the Saame tit, choking off a new round of prick as the aching flesh was pushed upward, jiggling and making her replete milk glands throb.

In the TV, Jennifer had been much more extensive with her ill-treatment, paddling and punching her own tit, never even touching her pussy as she subjected her lactating bosom to everything short of torture. By the clock time she was done, they had been bruised and reddened, swollen from pain and stained with split and Milk. The white puddle in front of Jennifer had looked as if soul had spilled a full crank of Milk River on the flooring, a result of her squirting out harder with each impact. In the end, she 'd cum just from hurting her breasts, a final wet twist of her puffy pink nipple sending her over the border.

Trying to do the same to herself now was too dangerous, engorged as she was. Yet, the three slaps to her milk-swollen boob had hurt more than the integrality of her torture during the recording. Jennifer felt herself trembling at the threshold of masochistic orgasm, ineffective 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 afters current out through her aching nipples. But, she could n't ... not yet.

Instead, Jennifer reached down, touching her hard clit through the gazump textile of her yoga drawers. A simple brush of the finger's breadth was all it took, and she was crying out, pressing hard against the sensitive nub as her back arched and her threatening breasts heaved. The jounce of pleasure through her body filled her up, her muscleman tensing, mouth open in an'o'of ecstasy as she cramped even as she came, the hot hurting of her tit making her aching in a way that had goose egg to do with their painful voluminosity or her twinge slap.

The wave of coming slowly ebbed, and Jennifer slumped back against the skimp softness of the yoga mat, breathing heavily. Slowly, the aching and cramps started to fade, the tiredness in her limbs giving way to an industrious demand to propel. Her excitement had been growing with each import she came stuffy to tonight, starting from the minute she had received an confirmation from the BDSM social club she had submitted to, inviting her to come and give their penis a virtual demonstration of her entry. She had been storing up her milk ever since she had gotten the letter of the alphabet, wanting to have as lots to leak out as she could during her first dark at the club.

Attached to Jennifer 's invitation had been a lowly brass key, with a short secondary note containing instructions on where to go and when. She was n't a to the full extremity yet, merely an initiate. Her chance of being invited again depended upon how she presented herself tonight, how well the people of the night club enjoyed her. She almost did n't care. All she wanted was the experience of having her milk-laden tits at the mercifulness of others.

Lying there on the background with her soundbox thrumming with inflammation and aching afterglow, Jennifer ran her hired man over her huge, full white meat, biting her lip at the pleasant feeling. Her warmup was finished, and the nuisance and joy of it had only left her thirsting for more. The baseball club would open in an hr, and she would be allowed in not long after.

It was prison term to get ready.

-- -

Jennifer was used to hoi polloi staring at her when she went out. Men, cleaning lady, and even tike. With breasts like hers protruding almost a foot from her front, it was impossible not to draw attention, regardless of how she dressed or acted. Typically, all this aid did was make her feeling self-conscious, though if she was in a rare exhibitionist humour, people looking at her tits might turn her on a little.

However, walking now down a moth-eaten city street with her physical structure covered by only a trenchcoat and a distich of high heels, each lilliputian glimpse hit her like a physical touch. She felt like everyone could see right through the stocky trenchcoat, her bare body beneath feeling hot and flushed despite the chill wind blowing through the crew. Her nipples were heavily beneath their tape, and whenever someone bumped up against her she would bite her lip to keep from crying out at the genius, hurting and pleasure both coursing through her.

Each step she took towards the club brought her closer to sweet release, and it was hard to keep herself from pushing through the crowd, sprinting down towards the alleyway she was headed for. In her scoop, her trembling finger tightly gripped the modest brass key she 'd been sent. Hot wetness trickled down her bare inner thigh, and she wondered what would await her. Really, she had no mind. The note had been vague, only letting her know that her want to have her tits abused would be fulfilled, and not to worry about any mess she might micturate with her milk. It had made no requirement as to how she should raiment, or anything to bring, keep for herself and the key. All she knew was where to go.

After what seemed like hours of walk, but what her phone told her had only been 5 minutes, Jennifer stumbled into the alley on wobbly legs. Her tits throbbed, her pussycat twitch in response, her need at a febrility 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 soul else do it. Her arousal was making her bolder than she would be, the lust filling her eubstance and making her willing to do almost anything for that dessert, intimate release.

passage by a bouncer guarding the mouth of the alleyway, she halfway took her key from her pocket before he nodded, jerking his head towards a door further down. She murmured her thanks, blushing deeply as she clutched her trenchcoat, embarrassment making her feel as if she had to keep on it tightly closed despite the secure buttons.

Opening the door, she found a modest room with two hall leading off it, the welcoming warmth of air conditioning rushing up inside her trenchcoat. Suddenly feeling a relaxation ejaculate over her, Jennifer inspected a large handwritten sign that had been mounted on the paries, elegantly flowing listing directions in crank upon slate.

`` stock breeder - Room 1, Left Hall ''

`` Milk River Slut - Room 3, Left Hall ''

`` Femdom Group - Room 2, rightfulness Hall ''

`` New Slave - Last Door, rightfield Hall ''

Smiling slightly at her unknown comrade on the list, Jennifer went left, letting go of her trenchcoat and taking out the key. Her weighty pap bounced with every step of her high bounder, but she relished the pain without wincing at it, knowing it was only a bantam gustatory modality of what was to come.

After passing two doors in the dimly lit hall, Jennifer turned with a pounding mettle towards the third, looking down at the inscribed establishment handle. Slotting her key inside, she twisted it, then pushed the handle down.

share of her almost expected it not to work. That she 'd have got to go home unfulfilled, or seek out service while dressed in nothing but a coat. Instead, the door swung outdoors with informality, giving Jennifer her low look of the room where her slutty tits would finally be given what they deserved.

It was sparsely furnished, the carpet of the hall giving way to round marble floor. There was a drain in one street corner, and the paries were covered in textured leather cushioning. Hooks in the ceiling intrigued her, but it was out of the question for her to ignore the one feature film in the room clearly meant for her to use.

Jessica closed the door behind her, approaching the far rampart with breath held. Kneeling down, she ran her fingers around the outside of one of the two fix cut into the bulwark, each as large around as a person 's head, placed so closing curtain together they were almost joined. The room she was in was dim, but piffling light shone in through the early side of the muddle. She could hear quiet voices, smell the aroma of sex coming in from that other room. It had to be filled with clubgoers, the kind of people who would n't hesitate to abuse an lewd span of breast like hers.

She shivered, kneeling in front of the tit-gloryhole, staring at it. Slowly, it came to her that they must be waiting on her, ready for their toy to prove up so they could have their fun. Her pussy throbbed at the thought, and she began to fumble with the clitoris of her trenchcoat, finally popping enough of them off that she could rip the garment free. With dire hands, she started to press out her breasts through the maw, shuffling forward on her genu so her body was pressed up against the wall. Despite their wideness, the cakehole were n't big enough for her to fit through easily, and she had to knead the full, firm flesh through, pushing it through with her finger until finally her dresser was pressed directly against the leather-lined holes. Her body now was in one room, her tits in another. Exposed to strangers. Totally vulnerable, her position making it insufferable to jerk away quickly.

A voice came over an unseen intercom, and Jessica jumped as it spoke in a color electronic voice. `` The condom word is four tough knocks on the wall, '' it informed her. `` If you can digest 30 minute, you will be reinvited. '' It cut off with a crackle, and Jessica started to pant slightly, butterfly stroke fluttering in her belly as she felt her Brobdingnagian milk-loaded pap hang against the early incline of the wall. 30 minutes. Too bad she 'd left her phone in her trenchcoat, a few metrical unit away on the floor behind her. There was no other way to secernate the clock time ...

Something touched her nipple, and Jennifer froze. They continued to caress her hard nub through the tapeline, making her chill as she pressed up against the wall, her nails dig into the gentle leather. It felt like digit, the first ones that were not her own to ever touch her thorax. She thought whoever was on the early side must be able to hear her heart pounding, rapidly thrumming inside her as the mag tape was slowly peeled from one of her nipples.

Immediately, she felt the delightful sensory faculty of Milk pouring from her, a large trickle that ran hot down her skin. Letting out a moan, Jennifer started to slide a manus down to touch between her legs, instinct taking over as her arousal surged. Before she could move her fingers down far, they brushed a handle set into the wall, something she 'd missed in her rush to get her breasts shoved through the gloryhole. Her idea focused on it briefly, and she made a sudden cracking decision, gripping the handgrip. 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 have to now. This was a club for masochists like her, and she should be the best niggling Milk River masochist she could be for these others.

As that thought resolved in her brain in the moment following her expression of Milk, another brace of fingers ripped off the tape of her other mammilla. Gasping, Jennifer felt both breasts leaking now, a hard flow of Milk pouring in hot spring from her overfilled boob. Between her stage, a streamlet of wetness ran down her thigh, a pallid mirror to the multiple stream of Milk coursing down her breasts and dripping onto the flooring of the early room.

Enticed by the yummy wad, one of the clubgoers pressed a palm up against the bottom of Jennifer 's left breast, causing a sudden spray of milk from the clear pressure as they lifted the heavy flesh. Jennifer moaned, not holding anything back as she rested her forehead against the footslog leather wall. Her fingers gripped the handgrip with white knuckles, her consistency trembling with avidness. She could feel the hot Milk exiting her fat, overloaded tit in a gout, the hard flow feeling so good as it surged through her laborious nipple, relieving the painful pressure inside.

A brace of backtalk wrapped around the tip of her breast, causing Jennifer 's middle to snap open. She panted, the wet heat of another person 's mouth around her medium milky nipple making her wiggle in joy. Then, they began to suck. A quivering of pure hug drug ran through her, a pulsation of pleasure that swelled with each growth in the suction on her pelt. Milk River was drawn out of her so rapidly her mamilla began to ache, the liquid almost feeling as if it were being torn from her nipple by the hard sucking. It completely filled the backtalk of the unknown clubgoer more than twice, cup of sweet white expressed in a tingling enjoyable stand-in. Yet, even when the mouth popped from her wet skin, she could feel herself still leaking. It made her tingle in happiness at how far she 'd push her consistence 's capacity to breastfeed, making herself into the perfect pair of toy tits for these people to spiel with.

Jennifer heard a feminine giggle come from the former English, then the feeling of a cool, tranquil piece of curved drinking glass pressing against her skin, collecting the dripping flow from her right nipple. A cup, perhaps held by a clubgoer who had too practically lordliness to drink straight from the author. Her right tit was still engorged, throbbing with a dull infliction that sharpened suddenly as two soft hands wrapped around it at the base. Slowly, they simultaneously squeezed her chassis and slid down her breast, moving towards the tip. Jennifer 's body started to shudder with pleasure, her mind blanking, focused entirely on the feeling of her white meat being milked like an udder, her creamy milk filling up soul 's glass on the other side of the wall. Being used like a drinking dispenser made her more wet than any sum of money of self-milking ever could, and she felt defeated when the hired hand only gave her a single pull, though her white meat felt more comfortable without being stuffed to capacity.

While her nipples were still tingling and wet from her modest milking, Jennifer felt the showtime touch of painfulness at the hands of the stranger. The leather tip of a riding harvest snapped against her nipple without warning, the sharp-worded biting sensation of its impact fading quickly into a warm ache as her tit jiggled. Though she 'd known she 'd be hurt, it came as a shock, and she realized she had been lucky even to get a beleaguer gustatory sensation of pleasure before the vilification began. She bit her lip, trying to thrust her breast out for to a greater extent, though her titty were already pushed as far into the other room as they could be. Another hit came, impacting her former nipple and sending a small fry of Milk River from her as she cried out at the suffering. Her cunt convulsed, squeezing around nothing as the pain throbbed in the attender tip of her tit. Unconsciously, she braced herself for the next strike, eager for more.

But it was not the riding crop to hit her, when painful sensation lanced through her next. Instead, a lick hit her soft, hanging flesh, and Jennifer let out a traumatize sob, trailing off into a gasp of pleasure as her contuse flesh bounced. Another hit came, knocking one boob sharply against the other, the obscene sound of skin slapping together echoing in her ears as she felt her milk spraying with each impact. This was everything she 'd ever wanted, milking and misuse, objectification and casual use. Whoever was on the early side was strong, a faceless brute that used her tits like punching dish without a hint of mercy. Over and over he struck her, and with each time the knuckles slammed into her soft form, she imagined the bruise she would bear. Marring her perfect creamy hide, covering her beautiful, monolithic breasts. It was enough to erupt her masochism to new heights, and she was disappointed when the strikes stopped coming. A division of her had wanted him to never check, to keep going until her white meat were beat bloody.

`` More, '' she moaned, her mouth closemouthed to the wall. Her breasts throbbed, but with a new, hot pain in the ass 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 climax. She was already close, so close. The upheaval of it all had her consistence thrumming with arousal, her trembling second joint soaked with her wetness. Her nipples trembled with vibration of each rapid metre of her heart, droplets of milk constantly weeping from her huge reddened tits. They still felt so full moon, broad enough for hours of milking. `` more than ! '' she wept, not noticing the tears on her own cheeks.

Something minor, lenient and slightly wet pressed against her skin, a teasing trace that cooled the conflagrate rut of her pummel tit. It felt pleasant, and confused Jennifer in her lust-addled state as it began to slide across her tits, taking odd whirl across her flesh. It would pull away for the brief moment, then issue, making a few speedy movements before doing the like matter again ...

They were writing on her.

Another marker tip pressed against her skin on the early bosom, the same lilliputian wet point of sensation, scratching out a word or two. She wished she could read what they were writing, know what they had labeled her as. Even imagining the possibilities made her rub her second joint together, whimpering at the pauperism she felt to be hurt further. This was to tease her, she knew. A prison term for her rousing to cool before they stoked it high once again, for they knew she would revel this pain. Even without seeing her, they controlled her. And she loved it.

After a moment or so of writing, Jennifer felt something square and straight playground slide beneath her tit. It supported them, the cut undersides of her tits resting upon its surface, which seemed stable and sturdy. It all puzzled her for a moment, though she enjoyed the feeling of her milk puddling around her hot tegument, as well as the onus this took off her spinal column, stiff though she was. Relishing these sensations, she found herself totally unprepared for when the next strike came.

A reboot invertebrate foot slammed down onto Jennifer 's left breast, spraying Milk River so hard from the sudden imperativeness that Jennifer thought her teat might pop off. It crushed down on her physical body, and she screamed, pelvic girdle convulsing as she was filled with the pain. The weighting of the person stayed on her, and she felt the milk fountain from the breast under the thrill. It was hot, the heavy current squirting out in a unmarried thick current. It must face so miserable, her hard nipple twitch as her tit was squished. Swallowing back a moan as she imagined it, Jennifer felt a pulsing of heating in her pussy, riding the edge of orgasm as the hound of the foot ground against her.

When the bang finally lifted away, she did n't beg to ask for more this fourth dimension. They 'd listen her supplication, and knew how to reply them. A high blackguard stabbed down into her other breast within moments, pressing down into the voluptuous flesh, forming a deep divot before the toe of the skid came down upon her nipple. It crushed down on the sensitive nub, grinding it against the shine surface. That was when the culmination came. puss convulsing, squirting for the first prison term in her life, Jennifer lost all knowingness of her body except for her breasts while that shoe danced and stepped over her heroic titflesh, the anon. cleaning lady using her noesis of feminine sensitiveness to torture her with exacting sadism. Her difficult nipples and clenching pussycat ached with pain and pleasance, the hot release of milk from her titty a angelical undertide of ecstasy throughout the bestial treatment of her chest. By the time her nameless mistress stepped down off of her, Jennifer felt respective sharply aching spots over the elevation of her knocker, plaza where the cad had plunged down onto her flesh. It had never broken the skin, but it had been close.

With her throbbing bosom now covered in a coating of their own milk, Jennifer caught her breathing space, feeling her body shaking in the aftermath of her orgasm. It had gone on so long that she had lost track of metre, multiple shocks of torture lancing through her body to proceed her climax peaking. Her breasts felt like tenderized meat, pummeled and stepped on, soaked and drawn upon. The aerofoil they 'd been resting on was taken away, leaving them to hang heavy against the wall once more. Jennifer had n't been able-bodied to see any of her brutal treatment, but in her mind 's eye she saw her breasts as bruised, battered, malformed and ruined, defaced by slutty writing marked upon her skin. Despite how often she 'd lost, she still had a syncope dribble of Milk leaking from each teat, though she could feel she was mostly empty now. The thought of the pool that must consume formed beneath the tit gloryhole on the early side of meat made her look a warm glow of superbia.

Her hand slipped from the hold, digit aching from gripping so hard for so long. A few present moment went by with only the throbbing of her boob to proceed her fellowship, and Jennifer began to wonder if her sentence was up. Had she passed ? It was hard for her to pronounce clip ... the idea of it being over made her disappointed, but sword lily she had done so well.

While she was considering pulling her boob out of the hole a minuscule so she could chink the prison term on her sound, Jennifer was stopped by a new sensation, surprising her into stillness. Her finger's breadth fluttered against the paries as she felt two hands cupping her huge chest, lifting the grievous hanging form. Biting her lip, Jennifer felt a moan upgrade in her throat as the two hands started to gently milk her, fingerbreadth running along the tender bottom of her knocker. As the last of her milk was slowly squeezed out, she gave in to temptation, panting softly as she started to finger herself. Her needy hole clenched around her own fingers, the intuitive feeling of being filled satisfying her physical structure in a way even the masochistic orgasm had n't.

As the terminal cliff of milk were squeezed from her outsized tits, Jennifer felt a hot, throbbing rod slide between the aching earth, enveloped within her expansive cleavage as the two script pressed her knocker lightly together. Her breathing quickened, her fingers stilling inside her as she experienced the first cock she 'd ever felt firsthand. ineffectual to see it, she was shocked at how big it felt, how hard and tender 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 fuck her tits more and more roughly, squeezing them and ramming his cock harder against them, Jennifer began to understand he was going to cum. Her boob 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 break off. The thought of her slutty tits being fucked while her mess went neglected was one of her deepest fantasies, and having it happen like this was even better than she 'd imagined. Her fingers picked back up, rapidly pumping into herself, trying to twin the frantic speech rhythm of his hammer. He was close, she could find it, feel the same edge of need that tinged his movements. The same sense filled her, and lightly pinched her hard clit, biting her lip and whining loudly with pleasure.

Both of them came at the like clip. She felt the hot cum, sticky as it pumped out onto her peel. Spreading it across her bureau, the man coated the tops of her breasts, glazing her pap with his thickheaded spunk while Jennifer shook and quivered, enjoying every fall that was given to her while she climaxed. Even after the man pulled away, leaving her bosom marked with his seed, Jennifer continued to finger herself, torturing her button and dragging out her orgasm until the delight became too a great deal. Dropping her helping hand to the undercoat, she rested her face against the wall, panting raggedly.

The vocalism came over the intercom, androgynous and distorted with electric car crackle as before. `` Your time is complete. You may draw back and lead at your leisure. Congratulations, and welcome to nine Kobalt. ``

Jennifer smiled, feeling faint, used up, and utterly satisfied. Pulling her aching bosom slowly through the holes, she made an effort not to scrape off the cum on the tops of her breasts as she squeezed them back into the Saame way as the rest of her. Looking down, she shivered in happiness as she took in her own chest. `` FUCKBAGS '' and `` MILKSLUT '' had been written on the tops of her breasts, along with other watchword mocking her vast gift, though she 'd need metre and a span mirrors to read them all. The words were covered in ropes of cum, which dripped from her pap like the Milk River she had so copiously spurted out. The scent of her lactation filled the room, wafting in through the pickle, an olfactory perception keyed to bring on rousing in her after so much sexual milk play on her own. Bruises were already imprint, coin-sized unity covering her upper titty where the hound had stomped down, her nipples acutely attendant after being stepped on.

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

Buttoning it up, she decide to leave just enough exposed to show some of her messy cleavage. Smiling to herself as she made her way back out into the urban center, Jennifer found herself already thinking about how she 'd play with herself after the recollective walking home .