4000 Milky Way
Our first property of the day was an old farmhouse several miles west of the city limits, just outside the main entrance of the 'soon to be defunct' car factory.
"What's the story on this place?" Marked asked as we drove what used to be a busy highway towards the plant.
"It's actually a bit of a mystery. When the auto maker bought up all the surrounding farmland a couple of decades ago, this was the only place that refused to sell. The property had been in the same family since before the civil war and the owner wasn't about to break from tradition."
"If that's the case, why are they selling now?"
"That's the mystery. Everybody else is selling because their livelihood depended on the car plant. But that shouldn't matter to a dairy farm. If they can't sell their milk in Merryville, they can always sell it someplace else."
I had never been to the property before and nearly missed the turnoff. Not that my GPS didn't give me adequate warning. I was expecting "Milky Way" to be a paved road, not a gravel path hidden by a line of mature evergreens. But it was a well-travelled gravel path, evidenced by the deep ruts and lack of grass along its route.
Breaking through the copse of trees was like traveling through a time warp. One minute I was on a four-lane highway looking at a rusting industrial park, and the next view was a gently winding road through well kept, rolling fields of grass, leading towards a three-story colonial with several farm buildings surrounding it. Unlike the car plant, the farmhouse in front of us looked to have a fresh coat of paint, as did the rest of the buildings.
"Wow," Mark said. "Not quite what I was expecting."
"Nor I. If first impressions are any indication, they aren't struggling financially."
The closer we got, the better the place looked. The gravel road gave way to a large paved circular drive with at least a dozen cars parked around its perimeter. Unable to find room in front of the building we went around back where another half dozen vehicles stood in a grassy lot. We parked beside two forty something women who were getting out of an SUV.
As we exited my car, the two ladies gave me a cursory glance and then unabashedly stared at Mark as they walked past us towards the farmhouse. One of the women said something to her compatriot as she lewdly gawked at my client. Her partner giggled and they walked away, turning a couple of times to steal another peak.
"There's something wrong here," Mark said, seemingly oblivious of the attention. "Something missing."
"What?"
"You did say this was a dairy farm. Right?"
"Yes."
He looked around and took a deep breath. "I don't claim to be an expert on the subject, but don't dairy farms usually have cows?"
He had a point. Not only did I not see any cows as we drove up, I also didn't hear or smell any evidence of cows once we escaped the confines of my air-conditioned auto. And why was the parking lot full of cars?
"We could always leave. I could move our one o'clock showing up a few hours and..."
Mark held up his hand to silence me. Before I could explain how rude the gesture was, he put his finger to his lips.
"Listen," he whispered. "Do you hear something?"
"Not really."
He grabbed my hand and led me towards the side of the building, stopping just short of a window.
"You can't hear that?"
If I strained my ears, I could hear a mechanical noise coming from inside the house. And maybe the occasional murmur of people... not actually a murmur, more like soft moans.
Mark tried to peer into the window only to find that it was too high above the ground, even for his six-foot two frame. He looked around for something to stand on and, finding nothing suitable, motioned for me to come over.
"I'll boost you up."
The word "No" had just escaped my lips when two strong hands reached under my dress, grabbed my thighs, and perched me on his shoulder like a parrot on a pirate.
With my left ass cheek supported by Mark's shoulder and my right by his hand, I used his head to balance myself on the precarious perch and only then peered into the room.
The room was dark. The window dirty. I didn't have a great view. But what I thought I saw made me gasp.
"I'll kindly ask you two trespassers to step away from the window."
In a move worthy of a cowardly acrobat, I jumped off Mark's shoulder and placed his body between me and a wrinkled old woman holding a shiny new shotgun.
"That's a big gun for a little lady," Mark said as he slowly turned to face the woman. "I suggest you lower the twelve gauge before you hurt yourself."
She did lower the gun, but only slightly. Where it was initially aimed at his chest, it was now pointing directly at his crotch. "If you got any peeing or screwing planned for the future, I suggest you do as I say."
"I do, on both accounts," Mark said.
"Inside." The gun toting granny motioning to a side door with the muzzle of the gun.
The door led to a long hallway which we followed... Mark and I, side by side, granny several paces behind us.
"First door on the left," she said. "You go first young lady."
Once my eyes adjusted to the darker room, I confirmed what I hoped I hadn't seen from the window. Five naked women were lined up along the length of the room. Each on hands and knees, shackled to the ground, with ball gags secured in their mouths. The moans were most likely a result of the different style sex toys vibrating in their pussy's. The mechanical sounds came from the slow but steady slurp of breast pumps. Each woman hooked up to her own machine.
It was a dairy farm after all. Five human cows lined up for milking... in a room with six stations.
"Well, get on with it," granny said. "Strip down and assume the position."
"I'm sorry. There's obviously been some sort of misunderstanding. I'm a realtor --"
"Missy, I don't give a shit what you do to pay the bills. When you're in here you're nothing more than another set of teats. Now get those fancy clothes off."
"But my breasts don't --"
The ball gag stopped me in mid-sentence. I turned towards Mark, hoping he would come to my aid, only to find he was the one who gagged me.
"I think it's best we do what the lady says," Mark said. "Do you want me to help with your dress?"
He took the full force of my slap to his face unfazed as he deftly dropped my dress to the floor. My matching panties and bra were soon piled on top of the dress.
"You," Granny said, pointing her gun at Mark. "Up against the back wall."
Mark moved as requested, despite the chains and attached to cuffs which hung from the ceiling.
"Go ahead blondie. Truss him up. Unless you want me to turn him into a soprano."
The restraints looked like the real thing to me... straight out of a mid-eval castle dungeon. For some reason, Mark didn't seem worried when I closed the manacles around his wrists and left him. Either being held captive in a crazy woman's basement was on his bucket list or he knew something I didn't.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Granny said once I had Mark properly restrained. "Assume the position."
I wasn't sure what she meant until she pointed towards the five naked moaning women on the floor.
"Unh unh," I grunted through the ball gag, shaking my head.
"Sorry. I forgot this is your first time," Granny said. "I'll get Jonathan to help you."
A young man, no older than nineteen, appeared out of nowhere. He twisted my arm behind my back and used the leverage to walk me to the empty milking station. Using my hair to pull me down to my knees, he quickly had me in the same position as the other ladies. With my belly resting on a short, padded stool, he cuffed my hands and ankles to rings on the floor. My breasts swung freely below me while my ass and pussy stuck out like beacons in the night... ready and available for the use of any passerby.
The breast pumps were next. They were a set of large plastic suction cups with a shot glass sized bump at the end. A rubber tube was attached to the apex of the bump. He moistened the plastic with his tongue and then did the same with my boobs... spending more time on the latter. Once joined, my breasts assumed the form of the cups with my nipples poking into the bumps.
While Jonathan held the cups in place, granny flipped the switch to the electric pumps. I gasped as first one and then the other nipple was sucked into the tube which led to a collection bottle. Which was a problem, because I didn't have any milk to collect. But the milking machine didn't know that.
The left cup contracted, squeezing my tit, drawing my nipple towards the tube. It held the pressure for a second and then released... only to repeat on the right side. And then the left. And then the right. Like strong hands squeezing my tits. Pinching fingers pulling down on my nipples. Continuously. Left boob. Left nipple. Right boob. Right nipple. The machine desperately trying to get milk from empty bottles and refusing to admit defeat.
