Page 12 of Milk
I lifted myself to my knees and pushed out the sleeves of my dress as I sobbed. I allowed one and then another to slide off my shoulders, exposing more of my vitiligo spots as I did so. The last time I undressed in front of a man, he said I looked like a cow on his farm before walking out on me. That memory haunted me for years. Slowly, despite my better judgment, I looked up at Carter. His gaze was focused on my spots. The ones across my chest, my shoulders, and over the top of my breasts. I didn’t know what was going on behind those soulless eyes, but I saw the faint smirk at the edge of his lips.
“You-You won’t get away with this,” I said, even as I continued to push my dress off, exposing both of my breasts fully. My ‘fat cow tits’, as the boy I had a crush on had so kindly described when I was young. “People know I’m here. Th-they will call the p-police and y-you’ll have to answer for this.”
“The police, huh?” Carter said, not impressed as he leaned back in the chair. He took another sip from his glass of milk and shook his head slowly.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he drank large gulps. He let out a loud and satisfied ‘ah’ after, licking his lips. Then he turned to me, raising his eyebrow in mild surprise.
“Oh, wait, you’re serious?” he said, almost in disbelief. “You truly have no idea of what’s going on, huh? Yet, you walked here all the same…”
Trembling due to sheer fear and utter and overwhelming humiliation, I pushed myself to my feet to finish undressing. I allowed my dress to fall down across my thighs. As it pooled around my feet, one of the guards stepped in and pulled it out from under me. I had to quickly step away so I didn’t trip. I stood there wearing just my piss-soaked panties and shoes, but Carter’s gaze was unrelenting. I knew he wanted me to undress fully. I wanted something to cover myself, even if it was dirty. Not that it should have been my main concern when I was likely about to be killed by a corrupt CEO.
I pushed my panties down, forcing them down my thighs, and they landed on the floor with a wet smack. Then I stepped out of my shoes. The guards approached to pick those up as well.Why do they want my clothes,I thought,not exactly their style.As one of them was walking away, Carter signaled to him. He pointed to me and made a gesture on himself, like putting on ahat, and the guard nodded. I was confused and trying to cover myself, unsure if I should cover my nipples or my pussy. How could I decide which I wanted to keep from my captors the most? The guard approached me, holding my filthy panties in hand. In a quick gesture, he spread them and placed them on my head. The lukewarm urine warmed against my forehead, soaking my brown hair. I shuddered in disgust, reaching to take them off, when Carter said, “Keep them.”
He stood from his chair, putting down the now empty glass. He walked towards me, stopping three feet away. Carter perused me before he pointed up with his finger.
“Raise your elbows at ear level. Put both hands on your head.”
His instructions were delivered in an almost deadpan tone, but there was something forceful in them all the same. It was his posture, the way he just stood near me and spoke like he knew I’d obey. One of the guards standing behind Carter clicked the button on his prod so I could see the arc of light between the prongs. The message was inescapably clear. Sniffling, I obeyed, putting my hands on my hair, which was now starting to soak in the smell of piss. The worst part was that it didn’t allow me to cover myself. Carter made a point of walking a full circle around me, studying me from every angle, and making little sounds of appraisal in the process. Once he was satisfied, he declared, “You’ll walk like this to your new home,”
I had no idea where we were heading, there was no door in the direction he was pointing. In the back of the warehouse, there was nothing! He said, ‘new home’ and that gave me a little bit of relief. If he meant to kill me, surely, he wouldn’t use that term, right? Was he going to jail me? To what end? Until when?Please, Jason. Please come up with a plan to save me right now. Please, I thought repeatedly while we walked.
Just when we were really close to the furthest wall, I saw that the concrete floor of the warehouse wasn’t all one poured slab. There were seams forming a twelve-by-twelve feet square almost right up against one of the corners, and he pointed to the middle of it. I stood there, confused, terrified, and wallowing in the complete helplessness of my situation. It was complete mental paralysis.
Carter and two guards stood next to me.
Like I could run,I thought sarcastically.
After looking me over again, Carter pulled a small remote control from his pocket. Just two buttons, red and green. He pressed the green one, and the floor began to sink. It took me a moment to realize that it was the platform of an elevator. We were sinking deeper and deeper underground.
Without walls or a roof, I could see the small square of the warehouse light disappearing. Darkness engulfed us for a second before one of the guards turned on an electric lantern, holding it aloft while we continued our descent. I couldn’t believe how deep we were going. Finally, we came to a large set of what seemed like blast doors painted white with black spots. The word ‘Milk’ was spelled on it in black, like a military stencil, except it was spelled like an acronym, with all capitals and dots between the letters. The doors opened and the sound of mooing was deafening. Not bovine mooing, but human voices.
Female voices.
I was pushed off of the elevator and into the room, which was a long corridor with stalls lining both sides. In each small stall along the way, there was a woman. They were lying on identical contraptions, a metallic structure attached to the ceiling, composed of two bars coming down vertically, covering a three-foot span horizontally before rising back into the ceiling. In between the horizontal portions, there was a piece of canvas that held the woman’s weight across her ribcage and stomach.Their arms and legs were placed out of the structure and held in place by restraints. A bar cuffed to both ankles prevented them from closing their legs, and straps attached their wrists to anchor points on the divider of the stall. Their breasts hung down, most of them oversized, looking full and with visible veins over the skin, dripping milk even when not touched.
Most of the women, though, had industrial suction cups attached to their breasts, pumping out squirts of milk. Some had men dressed in white uniforms standing behind them. Same as the guards and the packing plant workers, but the crotch had an open window, and they vigorously fucked the women, gripping their hips and grunting. They mooed, most of them mindlessly.
I was horrified. Even that word felt empty at the sight of the circus of horrors standing in front of me. There were at least fifty stalls in that corridor, if not more. A worse thought wormed into my head - this might not even be the only corridor. Almost every single stall was filled. As we continued to walk, I heard something familiar. I couldn’t isolate the mooing voice triggering that feeling, but there was something pricking in the cacophony of my brain. Hands on my head, I moved forward, looking more attentively into the stalls and seeing nothing beyond those mooing women being fucked, milked, and perhaps even bred at an industrial scale. None of them seemed familiar.
Not until I spottedhertowards the end of the line, in one of the last few stalls. I couldn’t believe my eyes or stop myself from gasping in surprise.
“Wren?”
There was no doubt about it. I’d recognize her petite body, her caramel-colored skin and her soft curls anywhere. It was Wren, tied to the same contraption as the other girls, mooing in delight and seemingly not recognizing me even as I called her name.
“Wren! Wren!” I said, rushing towards her.
I could sense the guards moving towards me, prods ready for shocking, but Carter raised his hand to stop them. He approached slowly, not preventing me from reaching Wren.
She was not being fucked, but shewasbeing milked, and her dark breasts were at least five times the size compared to the last time I’d seen her, in her green shirt and red apron, working the local grocery store. Wren had disappeared from the face of the Earth, and the prevailing theory was that she had gotten tired of small-town living and ran away. She’d worked at a small grocery store owned by her parents, a true main-street brick-and-mortarmom-and-pop shop in the most literal sense of those words, and that wasn’t a very exciting life. Yet, she never really struck me as someone who might want to run away to pursue excitement.
Her parents didn’t quite buy it either, but with no evidence of foul play and no leads, the Sheriff’s department had only done the bare minimum. I’d initially been shocked by how quickly the case evaporated in our small community. That had been months ago, though, and the consensus that she had likely just run away to something better. I’d been hoping, that too, at least ... until now.
The realization she might have been here, subject to constant milking the whole time, struck me like one of those cattle prods. As I knelt, I removed my hands from my pissed panties on my head and reached out to try and shake her shoulders.
“Wren! Answer me! Don’t you recognize me?”
She was one of the few people in our small town who didn’t mock me or treat me rudely because of my appearance. It nearly brought me back to tears to see such a good soul subjected to that fate. Carter stood next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder as he knelt as well.
