Milked, Volumes Five Through Eight

by Alex Carlsbad

  “Why does displaying yourself to these people bother you my dove?” asked Mr. Ismailov.

  “I serve you master, not them,” Giselle said in a low whisper. “I only display myself to them because you ordered me, but I do not care for it.” The tall blonde was standing proud at the center of the room holding up her white shirt as she allowed Jenny and Ben to drink in her beauty.

  “I apologize for my servant," the president said. “You can see she still has a lot to learn.”

  Ben didn't know quite what to say and so merely remained silent. He felt Jenny’s hand tremble in his grasp. He could tell she was deeply moved by the image of the submissive servant.

  “I will take this opportunity to teach you some humility,” the president said. “Now is as good a time as any. I want you to turn around and explain in detail how you got the marks on your bottom and what else the guests can see there.”

  Dejected, Giselle lowered her head making her blond curls fall across her forehead as she turned around. She bent slightly at the waist and having placed her hands on the cheeks of her butt she pulled them apart to reveal the sparkling diamond flange of a butt plug.

  Both Jenny and Ben gasped at the sight. They could see scars from multiple welts that crisscrossed her delicate skin there. She had been flogged!

  “Actually, hold on for a second!” the president suddenly said and motioned towards Jenny, “Please you do the questioning for me.”

  “Me?!” squeaked Jenny. Ben could clearly see rivulets of sweat streak down his wife’s long graceful neck. “But I don't know what to ask!” she complained in a plaintive voice.

  “No whining!” the president chastised her sternly and she visibly shrunk back at his rebuke. “Just ask Giselle anything that comes to mind. Surely you must be curious about her choice of lifestyle.”

  Jenny was about to protest again but stopped herself.

  It was all too much. She felt like crying. She was tired and overwhelmed from the novelty of everything. However, there was no denying how excited this entire situation made her feel.

  She sighed and asked, “What is this up there?”

  Before Giselle had a chance to reply, the president interrupted them both.

  “I want you to address each other using your first names. Giselle, I permit you to address Ms. Smith as Jenny, and you Jenny, can call Giselle by her first name too.”

  Jenny nodded and repeated the question this time phrasing it the way the president wanted.

  Ben sat back in the couch and placed a hand absently stroking his crotch where his cock pulsed with barely contained desire.

  “Giselle please tell me what are you showing us?” Asked Jenny.

  “This is my butt plug, miss Jenny,” the girl replied.

  “Why is it there, Giselle? Did you put it in yourself?” asked Jenny.

  “No madam,” Giselle replied. “Master re-inserted it there shortly before your arrival.”

  Jenny blushed when the girl called her madam. If anything this supermodel looked so much more elegant, taller and more beautiful than her, Jenny thought. Surely she shouldn't be calling me Madame.

  In spite of her embarrassment, Jenny pressed on, "Why did Mr. Ismailov put it there?" Her voice quivered with the words and Ben knew she was hesitating when it came to calling the object for what it was.

  “He makes me wear it all the time, Madame.”

  “Oh?” Jenny felt the girl’s reluctance to elaborate. She saw the president begin to speak but for some unknown irrational reason she lifted her hand to stop him. "Please elaborate for me Giselle," she heard herself say. Was it her imagination or did her voice suddenly sound imbued with authority she knew she did not possess? How odd. From the corner of her eye she saw the president smile.

  “Please be forthcoming and candid in your explanation, Giselle!” Jenny commanded.

  “He inserted it in me the day I agreed to submit and become his body servant, ma'am," Giselle replied and even though her body remained ramrod straight, Ben could detect a quiver in her voice.

  "The first moment he pressed it in me, I instinctively felt a sense of belonging to my master, a sense that overwhelmed me and has never lessened. Every step I take reminds me of my vow of submission. Master only takes it out when I have to serve him with my backside, and also once a day when I am allowed to go to the bathroom.” The servant girl's voice was coming in short little gasps now. Gone was her initial hautiness.

  “How do you serve him back there?” Jenny surprised everybody by asking. She saw Ben turn around and glare at her but she ignored him. “Describe to me the experience.”

  “Every couple of hours or so my master needs to go to the bathroom,” Giselle explained her voice eerily small now. Ben looked at her in amazement struck by how quickly she had allowed herself to be subdued by Jenny. The transformation he was witnessing in both women was staggering. The tall German supermodel had become docile and was now almost stammering with every reply.

  A new dynamic had blossomed between the two women. His wife had taken the role of dominant interrogator to the taller girl’s submissive.

  “If I am available, he uses me instead. Then the butt plug goes back in me to make sure that nothing leaks,” Giselle replied in a husky voice.

  “Doesn't this give you cramps?” Jenny asked and Ben considered telling her to stop but the president motioned for him to stay quiet.

  “It does,” admitted Giselle. She was still clutching her butt cheeks wide open before their eyes.

  “I don't understand,” said Jenny. “Do you have to go to the bathroom after that? I have read that the human colon is where liquids are taken up by the body. Surely soon after… servicing Mr. Ismailov you have to go to?” Genuine puzzlement clouded Jenny's beautiful oval face. Ben saw the president beam a radiant smile in her direction.

  “This is correct, Madame,” replied Giselle, “My bladder does fill up soon after. But it has been, what is the word… Modified? It has been fitted with a little metal stopper thingy that I am able to close and then open every time I go. So I can control the time I let go of my waste waters.”

  Ben could clearly see the woman's neck blush crimson at having to explain these intimate details.

  “Amazing!” Jenny whispered softly almost to herself. “You agreed to that of your own free will?” Ben felt cold sweat break out across his body.

  “Absolutely,” Giselle replied with newfound conviction. “If that is what master wants from me, I will do it. The surgery wasn't very long or complicated, and the modification gives me more control than normal when it comes to how often I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Amazing!” Jenny repeated clearly awed at what she had gleaned.

  “See how much one can learn if only one is curious and candid,” smiled the president clapping his hands clearly delighted in what had transpired.

  Suddenly he stood and without so much as saying a word walked over to the couch where Jenny and Ben were seated. He was an imposing man. The president was someone who even though obviously more than two times their age, made the young couple feel intimidated by his mere presence.

  Ben mumbled something and scooted away to sit at an adjacent couch.

  “I always knew you are a beautiful woman, Jenny, the president said, “but today you surprised me.”

  “Oh?” Jenny was at a sudden loss for words. She felt so small sitting as she was at the edge of the couch mere inches from the president who towered above her. She felt alone and at the mercy of this strange and very powerful man.

  But then something somewhere in some hidden corner of her mind clicked and ratcheted into place. Jenny felt herself move slowly, almost imperceptibly forward. It was a small distance but she knew with preternatural certainty she would never ever be able to walk it back. Jenny sat forward and closed the short distance to where the president was standing. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from where Ben sat. She did not want to see her husband while she did what she knew was expected of her. Sh
e reached out and closed her arms behind the master's knees hugging him tightly.

  The president was so very different from her husband and any other man she had ever known. More than simply powerful like a warlord or a military leader, she sensed raw energy like a current of electricity fill him and drive him. She hugged him tighter and felt him grunt his approval as he passed his fingers through her thick hair tugging and pulling at it painfully as she kept her head pressed against his knees.

  They held the embrace for a long while oblivious to the dumbfounded husband and the servant-girl still holding the position behind them.

  Ben felt white-hot outrage at seeing his wife, the woman he so loved submissively hug the knees of the dictator with such obvious affection. But soon anger gave way to sullen acceptance and Ben felt his, cock which until now had been straining against his pants in anticipation of his first night together with Jenny since her return from Africa, slowly relax and then withdraw. It shriveled collecting itself back up flaccid against his scrotum.

  Ben felt the air go out of him and he stood to leave.

  Nobody stopped him or even acknowledged him as he exited the room and went to check on the baby before putting himself down for the night.

  Serving Madame

  Tears sprung into her eyes drip-dripping to the floor from in between her Master’s fingers.

  "Do you love him?" He felt her nod where she had pressed her forehead against his thigh. "Then perhaps you ought to go back and be with him."

  "I can't – –," she said in a tiny voice like a girl begging out of something she didn't want to do. "I don't know anything anymore. I want to be with somebody who is strong and who takes care of me, not the other way around,” she whimpered and he felt her whole body convulse racked by sobs.

  “I know,” he said quietly caressing her shiny blond hair.

  “Come,” he finally said taking her gently by the arm and helping her stand up.

  She didn't have any idea where he was taking her or what time it was. She followed demurely behind her master, both of them ignoring the semi-naked girl in the room. As she followed him, Jenny quickly got rid of her high heel stilettos. Even though they added to her hight, they hurt her feet. Now her toes luxuriated in the thick Persian rugs that covered the entire place. They walked out on a beautiful and enormous terrace overlooking what appeared to be rolling hills and a lush pasture bathed in pale moonlight. The summer air smelled of flowers and dew. Instinctively Jenny stepped closer to him seeking the warmth of her Master’s heavy frame.

  He didn't move to embrace her but merely stepped just so that she could dock against his side like a boat finding its harbor at night. “Look there,” he motioned in the darkness and at first Jenny could see nothing. But then she gasped.

  A naked woman beautiful and tall, and long-legged, was riding a white horse. Her long blond hair spread behind her in the wind like wings of an angel as she used her strong legs to guide the beast this way and that across the rolling meadows.

  "Who is she?" Jenny whispered.

  "My wife," the president said simply.

  Jenny did not know what to say and so remained silent observing the figure beneath put the stallion through its paces.

  “She does that almost every night,” her master said as if speaking to himself. “She is mine and I am hers,” he said simply. “You can never be like her, or take her place. Do you understand?”

  The girl nodded and then said "I know."

  Her voice sounded soulless and devoid of intonation but he knew she meant it.

  They stood like that for a long while: him stoic looking down into the valley and her, pressed against the warmth of his body seeking comfort and admission. Darkness settled over the land and even though it was summer silence reigned supreme. Jenny thought she could hear the galloping hooves and the whinny of the horse and knew how much she wanted to trade places with the woman that rode it.

  “Tell me, do you know why I brought you and your family here,” his voice came distant but strong and deep in the darkness making her wonder whether she heard his words or felt their vibrations with her body.

  “You brought us here so that Ben can work as your advisor,” she said meekly without conviction. The big man chuckled.

  "You can do better than that," he said. "At least I hope you can, if you want to become mine." Jenny whimpered quietly at his words. They made her sound so cheap, and yet what he said was true: she did want to belong to somebody strong and willful like this man. So what if she had only just barely met him.

  “You brought us here because of me,” she heard herself say. She had meant it is a question but it came out as a statement of fact and the man nodded in the night.

  “Yes but why?” he pressed. This time she kept quiet for a long while at first mulling his question and then fighting against her own discomfort at saying it out loud and in the open. She hoped he would ask her something different but he didn't.

  “Your wife, she's blond like me," Jenny said finally. The man nodded but remained quiet waiting. "If what I was told is correct, she cannot have babies. No blonde woman can conceive because of the virus." The man nodded again and turned to face her. She looked up at him the pale moonlight reflecting in her blond curls. "I never got sick with the virus." Jenny said simply.

  The powerful man who was her master gently placed two fingers on her chin. "I am very happy you accept. My wife and I will be eternally grateful for your help." Jenny looked up unblinking at him. She felt her hands slowly inch up her sides and as if imbued with a life of their own, move in between their bodies gently coming to rest over his hardness that felt big and hot ensconced within his black suit pants.

  "Not now," her master said, his voice suddenly rough and chastising making her almost jump with fright. "And not like that. There is a way," she felt his fingers painfully dig into her chin, anger bubbling beneath the surface of his words, "Are you not listening, I am a man of tradition." Jenny was shaking like a leaf. But mercifully the fires in his eyes simmered down and he let go.

  "Go now. Go get some rest. You will need it,” he shoved her back with his hand. She whimpered and withdrew. An inexplicable urge made her curtsy low to the ground. She felt self-conscious of the way her tight black dinner dress had moved up her thighs.

  That night she dreamt she was a reluctant human sacrifice. She was a virgin pubescent girl slated to entertain the ancient Minotaur of Greece. She woke up in a cold sweat and realized that the sun was already high up in the sky. She checked her watch – 11:26 AM! Jenny had slept almost 12 straight hours through the night.

  Her breasts hurt and when she placed her palm on her chest, she felt an unwelcome heat and throbbing pain there. Mr. Inoukoue had been nothing if not diligent about feeding on her milk every three or four hours. When he was gone, he had given her strict instructions on how to use an expensive hospital grade breast pump he had somehow procured and brought out to the cottage where he had her hiding.

  But now that she was back, Ben didn't know she was still in milk. As far as her husband was concerned, she had stopped producing almost two years ago when she had left him and their infant daughter to work in Africa. She felt lightheaded with panic at the thought of how he would react when he found out.

  Then she saw the bed! She had slept naked because she had been too tired to rummage through their suitcases for a set of PJs, and now she could see the wet bedsheets where she had leaked during the night.

  Oh my God! There was a second circle of obviously soaked bedsheets lower than where her chest had been! Her dream! She had had a wet dream! Frantically she looked around to make sure her husband was nowhere near and hastily covered the embarrassing evidence with the duvet. Quickly Jenny made a beeline for the bathroom where she hoped a long soothing shower would do the trick and help coax her aching breasts to release their pent-up milk.

  She found the two men in the kitchen having brunch. Giselle was serving impeccably dressed in her maid's uniform as she had been the night
before. Jenny was quite surprised to find the president still lingering in their company. She had been given to understand by Ben that the man was extraordinarily busy and a very hands-on type of guy. She frowned trying to imagine what it would feel like to live the life of somebody who had so much power over millions of people. She shook her head silently agreeing with herself that this kind of life simply wasn't meant for her.

  Both men completely ignored her and went on discussing some financial issue. Jenny wasn't quite sure what had happened with Ben last night. She remembered him leaving in a huff but other than that she had no recollection. She had been too afraid to go and seek him out. Now she merely stood and watched as she leaned against the countertop drinking milk and enjoying her coffee and breakfast. It was her favorite meal of the day.