Page 42 of Milking His Lass

Fevered touches race over my skin, drawing a soft moan from my lips. My brain tries to make sense of it all, but all I can see is a set of light blue eyes and darker blue skin. Blue. Why blue?

I continue to struggle to wake, doing my best to understand exactly who is touching me and why. Did I leave the party with someone? No. That’s not possible. I’m not the type to drink and fuck. Not really.

The fingers continue to brush over my skin. So familiar, yet so alien. Alien. Oh. Oh God! My eyes fly open, my gaze taking in the sterile yet somehow comforting room. Icora. Aliens. Blue motherfuckers who transformed me into some milky cow.

Craning my neck, I watch as Master Antroli strokes his massive cock. His free hand drifts over my body, touching me with a reverence I don’t expect from someone like him. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to realize I’m awake yet. This allows me to watch him, study him, and drink him in.

I suppose as far as Master and Owner goes, I could do a lot worse. Despite his domineering demeanor, he really is quite generous. Glancing over at the blank screen, I give a soft sigh.

Would any other Rancher be willing to let me speak with my family? I suppose if it’s in their best interest, maybe. But the fact that he left and allowed me to be alone with his technology speaks to someone either really trusting or just really fucking naïve.

In all the ways that they seem superior to us, they really do have a blind spot when it comes to things like corporate espionage. The fact that someone not from their planet can access what should be confidential data with such ease is rather alarming.

Granted, it gives me an upper hand if I ever need to use it. Not that I’m planning on betraying Master Antroli. But these other blue fuckers? I don’t trust them as far as I can shove their big, blue arses.

His hands become more insistent, driving all thoughts from me. Perhaps this is how they continue to maintain control. The need he brings out of me renders me nearly unintelligent. I can’t think, speak, or even form a coherent thought when he runs the pads of his fingers over my clit.

A soft moan drifts from his lips, drawing his gaze to mine. “Good morning, my beautiful Highland.”

“Morning,” I mumble, squirming under the onslaught of his hand. “Though beautiful remains to be seen. I normally look a wee bit frightening in the morning.”

He grins and eases two thick digits into me. “Well, to me, you’re stunning. The way your coppery hair fans about your face. You look well fucked, my little pet.”

Heat licks up the sides of my face as I turn from his adoring gaze. “It’s far too early in the morning for all this.”

“Ahh. I forgot. Humans and their need for caffeine.”

“Well, this human specifically,” I chuckle.

With a wicked glint in his eyes, he crawls over my body, dragging his stiff, heavy erection over my mound. The moan flitting from my lips is downright decadent, an erotic sound so close to a moo, but not quite. Without him having to ask, I part my lips, allowing him access to my mouth.

Morning coffee indeed. I have no clue how he manages it, but with the dark, bitter taste of his cum mixed with the lighter, milkier taste of the caffeine additive, it’s almost as good as a cup of black coffee with a splash of creamer.

Almost.

There’s still that pang of homesickness that washes over me as he jerks himself off into my mouth. As good as his cum tastes, it will never be coffee. It will never be home. Closing my eyes, I force the tears to remain at bay.

No use getting all sentimental now. Not when the potential good outweighs the bad. With my eyes closed, I can pretend I’m back at home. That this sexual encounter is just like any other.

Only, the insistent pressure in my breasts reminds me it’s not. Reaching down, Master Antroli uses his free hand to grip the tender, swollen flesh, forcing a cry out from around his cock as it stuffs my face. I wish I could say it was only pain, but I can’t.

Pleasure burns in its wake, waking up my nerves far more efficiently than coffee ever did. But maybe that’s the point to all of this. By the time the year is up, I’ll be far more dependent on his touch than coffee beans.

“Celestials,” he grinds out. “You’re so fucking ready to be milked, aren’t you? That’s right, my perfect pet. Such delicious milk for me. I can’t wait to taste you. Like nectar straight from the celestial beings.”

He continues to wax poetic as he strokes himself, bringing his release even closer. His cock swells in my mouth. He’s so close. I run my hands over his balls, stimulating him even further, desperate for that hit of caffeine I know is coming.

With a loud roar, he empties himself into my mouth. “Now hold it in there like a good little cow,” he groans, squeezing the base so every last drop comes out.

His cum is warm in my mouth, like coffee set to cool. Keeping my mouth open, I look up at him, waiting as he opens the little packet and sprinkles it over my coated tongue.

“That’s a good pet. Swallow every drop. Get that energy you need to get through the day.”

I swallow, moaning softly as I feel him sliding down my throat and into my gut. With a smile, he urges me to lie back as he fondles my breasts, squeezing and feeling them. It’s torture unlike any I’ve felt before.

Desperation flutters through my gut as I lie beneath him, waiting for him to relieve the pressure. My nipples throb as he runs his thumbs around the taut peaks, refusing to tend to them.

“Moo for me, my little Highland. Let me hear how badly you want me to drink from you.”

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