Ciana Rose's Erotic Stories




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(M/f, Humiliation)



The farm was large, private, hidden away from the world behind huge pine trees and a half mile of woods. The grounds had that smell that only a farm can have. Grass and hay and animals and dirt all mixed together to smell organic; living. There was no other smell like it.

Sir emerged from the tent first, wearing chaps and jeans and no shirt. His body was not the cut pretty boy muscles of magazines but the hard muscles of a man who worked. He lead her, all be it a little reluctantly on her lead. Bessy stepped out of the tent naked except for collar and blinders into the sunlight. She was acutely aware of her nudity, the freshly shaved pussy, the oiled skin, her heavy udders filled with milk until they were nearly bursting. She knew everyone was watching.

She walked through the dirt, the blinders cut off the people on either side and soon she was walking along with only sir in her mind. She watched his back and plodded along like a good milk cow, filled and ready to be milked. He had purposefully milked her 5 times a day for 2 weeks prior to this event to get her flow heavy and then not milked her for a day and a half before now. She oozed milk if she bumped into anything. She was so full she was spilling.

The event was a yearly affair that they had attended many times but never in this capacity. This year she was the award winning milk cow and they were to display what a public milking was all about. She fidgeted briefly with the tail hanging and bobbing back and forth, attached to the butt plug stuffed in her ass. The tip of the tail had a weight in it causing it to bob wildly and bounce as she walked, pulling at her asshole constantly and making her almost moan from the sensation.

She was excited and scared. To be displayed so openly was as terrifying as it was arousing which made it even sexier for her. People came here from all over the country. She'd probably never see any of them again but she felt like each one of them knew her. A small trickle of sweat went down her back and made her shiver in the summer sun.

Sir looked back and smiled and grabbed a bucket by the gate and then opened the massive door and led her in. The ground in here was hard packed dirt, hot from the sun baking it. As she walked her toes ached just a little from the heat. He lead her to the center of the ring and to a spanking bench waiting for her.

He brought her up close to him and caressed her naked skin, gently caressing her udders until she was almost expressed, almost able to relieve some of the pressure, but not yet. He smiled at her fidgeting. He enjoyed her frustration so much -- he tweaked one nipple just enough to allow a drop of milk to trickle down her breast -- just one drop.

Putting her on the bench, he used a coarse rope to tie her in place, tits hanging over one edge, udders ready to be milked dry. Now she could not avoid seeing the people directly before her. The blinders had kept them alone up until then, but now she saw people standing and staring. Half naked, fully clothed, one girl butt naked with her pussy stuffed with a dildo, all watching her, all waiting for the show.

Sir began to rub her shoulders and then his hands slid down her arms. She closed her eyes and allowed his touch to calm her. As his hands slid down to her breasts, she was trembling. Her nipples ached so badly, they were so swollen and full -- the load of milk had her at the point of agony.

Then he did it: one hard gentle squeeze of her udder and then the sound of milk hitting into the bucket. Oh god he did it. One big squirt that felt like an orgasm as the pressure in that udder lessened. She moaned and Sir chuckled and rubbed her tit so the milk spray made her skin slick to his touch.

His hand closed over the other nipple and another long, hard squeeze and she shot more milk into the bucket. She was shaking now. It felt so good and she began to hear people commenting, "How lovely her udders were. What a good cow she was." Another long squeeze and more milk. Oh yes, she thought, she needed this.

Then Sir stopped. He went behind her and she felt him move her legs apart. He pushed her forward a little, spread her wide open, and then stuck a finger in her sloppy wet pussy. When he split her lips, her juices oozed out. He chuckled and gave her pussy a good three thrusts to make her cum drip and then he walked back around her.

Leaving her cunt wide open, he went back to milking her. He had a hand on each tit and began to rhythmically pump her, sending geyser after geyser of milk into the waiting bucket. She was moaning and shaking as he milked her. She could feel the cum dripping from her and down her legs and that thought made her even hornier. She was groaning like a whore as he milked her harder, watching the milk spray wet the front of his jeans; his hard cock sweet and slick from her milk and hard against the fabric.

She moaned loud and her body began to spasm -- she was cumming for him . . . for them . . . for them all. As he pumped her udders to the point of pain she came for them all to see. She cried out and felt cum gush from her, a big sticky drool down her legs. He was speaking to her, telling her what a good girl she was. his words were no more than sounds though. . . she was moaning and grinding her hips in the air as he milked her more.

Her big udders held a huge amount of milk; he seemed to be draining her for hours before finally the spurts got less and less and she was left hanging there, milk sacks emptied, cum dripping down her crack. The sun baked her as she hung there. He stroked her hair and whispered to her and she nuzzled against him.

Then the rope was off and she prepared to stand only to be pulled down again. Instead of allowing her up, he pulled her to the side and into the dirt. On all fours, she looked up at him. He stood over her, smiling. His hard cock was only an inch from her face in his jeans. She nuzzled against it and he laughed.

Then he pushed her down more, until her tits touched the ground. She didn't know what he wanted of her. She didn't know what to do. Then she felt it, the hot, sweet, sticky milk on her skin. Sir began to pour her own milk all over her. She felt it coat her body; cover her in sweet sticky slipperiness. She began to moan and shake as he dumped it all over her.

Sir was not done yet though. He pushed her down into the muddy mess now on the ground. He pushed her down and then over, making her wallow in the milk mud. He smiled as he did, rubbing it all over her skin. She was beyond any cohesive thoughts; she was just a creature of sensation, cumming again and again at the humiliation, the sensation . . . the ideas . . .

Then Sir must have decided there wasn't enough mud. She didn't know what he was doing, she saw him stand. She was rubbing her own dirty body, wishing for more slippery mud. Then it began to rain. But no, not rain -- one steady stream of hot rain. She looked up, tried to see the clouds.

She gasped and bellowed as she saw sir standing above her, his piss raining down on her. The ground was muddy and getting muddier. She gasped and tried to speak but only an animal gurgle came out. She rolled in the mud; she rubbed her skin as his hot piss splashed all over her. She cried out and wallowed like the good cow she was. She cried and came and cried and rolled in the muck.

She didn't know how she got clean or back into her tent. She didn't remember the sun going down. But she lay there in the gathering twilight, clean and spent. Sir was stroking her hair still. She felt light, small. She didn't try and speak; she nuzzled closer and he laughed. He cleared his throat and she looked up -- he had something in his hands. She fought to focus. It was a ribbon. She tried to read it. . .

"Best In Show"

Bessy shuddered and nuzzled into him, bed down for the night. She had won best in show -- made him proud. She drifted off into sleep.



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