The King's Tempory Slave

Chapter 8. The milkers

A week after leaving the clinic, I sat in Sapphire's office typing my account of the whippings when the king stopped at my desk on his way through. I'd been working with my breasts exposed but I loosely covered them when I saw him enter the room. I don't know why I bothered because his first words were, "Let me see what they're like now Carol please." They were still multi-coloured and tender and I certainly wouldn't have wanted to wear a bra even if it was allowed but I could gently cup them in my palms without crying out. King Joshua reached over the desk to touch them and I immediately flinched but he was gentle and quietly asked how sore they were. "They're still very tender and ache all the time," I told him, "But not too bad." We had been well taken care of by the staff at the clinic,

"Good, they know what they are doing and things like that foam spray are not available in the UK." He paused and went on, "Come to my room tonight," he replied. He would be the first to have me since the whipping and I couldn't refuse him like I had done with the repeated requests from the Marenka's.

"Thank you. It deem it an honour to be at your service." It was the standard answer but I suddenly thought of it as being true. After being a whore to men and women every night for nearly three weeks, my forced abstinence left me with a feeling of being left out.

He sent for me around eight o'clock which was earlier than normal and immediately gave me a good, very enjoyable fucking without putting any pressure on my breasts except a couple of times by accident. He apologised each time. I was quite surprised at the consideration he showed; he was more like the king I knew at the embassy rather than the cruel one that ordered thrashings.

Afterwards we lay together and talked about my life here and got he got around to asking about my writing and if there was anything else I wanted to know about. I thought and answered, "I don't know if I am letting myself in for more trouble but there's two things I'm curious about. Firstly I've heard people mention the milkers but have never seen them. I'd like to know more about them and secondly, I'm curious about the lives of the work slaves. How they seem to live differently to the pampered lives of us harem slaves, yet they seem happy enough even when doing menial tasks."

King Joshua lay quiet for a short while thinking about what I said. "The milkers are a group of women with huge breasts. Udders would be a better term. They are kept lactating and provide milk for myself and members of my staff. You've actually had it in your tea when we've dined together. By normal standards your tits are large but they are nothing to the size of the milkers although, if you were here permanently, I have no doubt they would grow if we put you in the milking programme. I can arrange for you to visit the milk production parlour for a day or two if you wish but you will not be able to take part in the programme without becoming pregnant. As for your learning about the lives of work slaves, that you could do in a practical way but only if you agree. It is not part of your contract. If you agreed I could have you transferred for a few days to experience it as it really is. The pleasures and the punishments. In general, the punishments are only a few swats with the strap on your bare arse, nothing like you've been through. More severe punishments have to be sanctioned by me or the Palace Chamberlain and are done publicly for the entertainment of our guests."

We discussed it for a while until he said, "Enough of this chatter, I'm hard again so get your arse up ready for me to fuck it."

Nothing more was said about it and I spent the whole night in his bed and had breakfast in his room the next morning waited on by a near naked work young slave who helped us to shower afterwards. A bonus was that I missed Gym. Coach's exercises had improved my fitness but I couldn't say I enjoyed the sessions especially as he now seemed to concentrate on getting the muscles of my still tender tits to support their weight without help.

Brenda and Ken Wilson, amongst a list of others, requested me that evening and I accepted. Ken had been away to another site in Zamarabea for a few days but Brenda told me she ordered male slaves to service her each evening. Ken had no such luck in the rural site. I asked Jim if he had been invited and he had but declined. "I think my prick needs a few more days to recover and Nurse supports me in that. If I'd known you were going I might have agreed just to see you."

"If I can get Brenda to be gentle with you and if she hasn't ordered another man, will you come?" Jim nodded. I explained all this to Brenda when I arrived and a little later Jim appeared. We were examined carefully. Both gingerly touched my tits and I didn't let on they looked far worse than they felt. Jim's back and front we still a mass of welts which made all his body movements stiff but it was his prick that of course, took most of their attention.

"Will it get hard?" Brenda asked.

"Yes, but it is sore when it does and doesn't stay hard for too long. I haven't tried fucking again yet so I don't know how I will perform, ma'am."

"It looks pretty gross so I think I'll have to be satisfied with your tongue tonight. Ken's given me a good doing since he came back and I know he wants to get his prick in Carol again."

Ken tried to suckle my tits and that was quite nice until he tried to squeeze them as well. Even though he didn't do it hard, I pulled back in pain so he desisted and concentrated on fucking me. Jim had just brought Brenda to a climax and sat on the bed, his cock was half hard so when I'd finished cleaning Ken's prick, he suggested Jim could do with a suck too. I looked in askance at Jim who said to try it.

Very carefully I wrapped my lips around the head and when he made no move to push me away, I worked more and more of it into my mouth. Several times he grimaced and I stopped for a moment and then carried on again until I found he was slowly thrusting himself. It took a while but then suddenly I felt his sperm shoot into my throat. It was his first ejaculation since the Jap torture. He gave me a little smile and ruffled my hair. Brenda commented, "I think you two will make a nice couple."

While he lay on his side and rested, Brenda, Ken and I chatted about old times and my life here and what changes it would make to my lifestyle when I returned home. Brenda cupped and slowly massaged my breasts until my nipples stood out and I became very horny. Unfortunately Ken wasn't up to another bout yet so I took one of Brenda's hands and placed on my mound. She got the message and soon my juices were flowing. It was a minute or two later than she exclaimed, "Look, Jim's hard again." And indeed he was fully erect. "Do you want to try and do it with her?" Brenda asked.

"If you are ordering me, then I'll have to try ma'am," Jim replied with a smile.

"Get your arse over her and shag this slave senseless," Brenda laughingly ordered and then when he was close she whispered, "If it gets too much just pull out. We won't complain. We have gel if you want to use it although she's pretty slick at the moment. Perhaps she's always like that." Brenda couldn't resist having a little dig at me.

I lay myself across the bed with my cunt just clear of the side and my thighs as wide spread as I could get them unaided. It was certainly further than I could have spread them when I arrived. I guess Coach's exercises must have done some good. Jim entered very slowly and carefully and I could tell it was hurting him. "You don't have to," I said, but her said it was okay and he wanted to do it anyway. He managed to get in all the way and I had that lovely full feeling that a nicely stretched cunt produces. I wanted him to start ramming me hard but I knew too, that it would be too painful for him. Still he did work with a steady slow rhythm and I started to climax, then a short while later I climaxed again. By the time he ejaculated I'd had a beautiful series multiple orgasms which brought forth the comment from Brenda, "Looks as if I should have made him fuck me." His prick looked very raw when he finally withdrew. I apologised for what I had done but he said that it was his own fault.

I woke terrified. A man was shaking me and his hand covered my mouth. "Make no noise please," the man said. His uniform told me he was a eunuch but he was not one of those I had seen before. "Come with me please." Sleepily and somewhat sore I got up. There was no point in questioning him. Eunuchs followed orders; they didn't make decisions. Someone in authority must have sent him but who? Why? Was I going to be punished again? A couple of girls opened their eyes as I went by and Sapphire looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. At least she was in a position to find out what was happening.

I paused at the toilets and indicated I needed to go and he nodded. Having spent over a month using the hole on the floor toilets in the company of others, I squatted without thinking about the eunuch watching. He led me through a digital coded security door, and along corridors I had no idea existed. Now we were clear of the sleeping area I could talk without disturbing anyone. "Where are you taking me?" I asked not really expecting a reply.

"Milk production." I was both surprised and relieved by his answer.

"But why at this unearthly hour?"

"Matron says so." The cryptic reply left me no wiser.

Eventually we came to a dormitory not too unlike the one I'd just left. At first sight, the main difference was the size and height of the beds and the way the women were lying on them. They were chest down and their fat arses, all those I saw were large women, were raised to expose their sex and arsehole. To see a double row of bulbous, bare, bums was a most obscene sight. I also noted that a few women wore a prominent bright fluorescent red anklet. One had the very visible marks of a strap on her arse and several others the marks were fading so I guessed discipline was used here too. Matron, another large woman with huge breasts, whispered, "Lie here like the others. Your day will start in half an hour. The king has instructed me to treat you just like all the milkers for the day."

The bed was quite different to any I had ever seen and I saw why the women were lying face down. Where their breasts should have contacted the mattress was a large, recess that allowed their 'udders' to hang free without being crushed. Across the bed at hip level was a bolster that raised the buttocks. I found the arrangement surprisingly comfortable and very erotic. I knew my cunt was well on display and any man could come along and rape me with ease. I wondered why no one suggested a bed like this after my tit thrashing. It would have been more comfortable for me.

I dozed but was awoken shortly by the noisy entry of men into the dorm. Two started to squabble over me until I heard the swish and loud slap of a strap on flesh. It brought forth a sharp cry from the victim. The eunuch that brought me smiled as he hooked the strap back to his belt. Almost immediately I felt a prick at my entrance, my first fuck of the day had begun. It lasted for about ten minutes and I was able to cum. "Not a bad way to start the day," I thought.

Glancing across to my neighbour, I saw she too was in the throws of an orgasm. She smiled and said, "Hi, I'm Sharon. You seem a bit small to be a milker, but I was volunteered to be your guide for the day and to treat you as one of us so you could experience everything." It was difficult to explain my position while being humped but she got the gist of it. When the men finished we got up and used the toilet. I noticed the holes were further apart in this section and that many of the women were extremely large if not overweight. "No gym for me this morning," I thought. Sharon and I showered together and I noticed the others did so in pairs but for those who had difficulty in bending sufficiently, there were work slaves to help them.

"We go to be milked next," Sharon informed me, "I don't know how you'll get on with your tits in that state. Thank goodness us milkers have ours treated with more respect. I expect the machine won't like not getting anything out of you but you may find the sensation quite enjoyable. The stalls are over here." The 'stalls' as Sharon called them, were like cot beds again with a place for the woman's tits to hang down. "Press the button when you're in place, Carol and the suction cups will come up and fasten on your tits automatically." I did so and felt the cups home in on my nipples and then attach themselves firmly. A few years ago I'd done a report on a new milking parlour where the cows wandered in when they needed milking and the computerised system connected itself and milked the cow. "This is just the human version," I said to myself. The sucking gnawing action on my nipples soon had me horny and I wouldn't have minded another prick inside me but that was not to be.

"Milker Sharon, 1.24 litres. Satisfactory." The machine alongside me spoke. "Press the button again, Carol. It will release you," Sharon informed me.

"Milker unspecified, no milk. Report to matron."

"If our milk production falls for no good reason, that message often means 'go to matron and get a dose of the strap'." Sharon laughed, "I hope she's in a good mood and accepts your excuse but I will be surprised if she doesn't stripe your bum. It will be the first time she's had a harem slave under her control."

"I hope she's in a good mood then. I've seen and felt enough pain in the last month to last more than one lifetime."

"Whatever you do, don't refuse. You'll only be held down and given double and she'll lay it on real hard."

I duly reported to matron's office. Another woman was already there."… only 0.46 litres this morning Fatima. Why?"

"I had to attend the dinner last night ma'am and was sucked almost dry."

"No excuse," Matron snapped, "Over the frame with you." Fatima shrugged and lay across a vaulting horse type frame while matron picked up a long leather strap. Later I found out it was longer so as to cover the unusually wide arses of most milkers. She swung the leather in a wide arc and brought it down with a loud report across Fatima's arse. She yelled and tried to get up. The flesh depressed into a wide groove, went white and then coloured red. "Stay still woman, you know the penalty for being restrained." Matron's sadistic voice reminded me of Soushi.

"My God, I hope she doesn't hit me like that," I said to myself as I stood shakingly watching, but I was pretty certain I would feel the strap. Sharon was probably right in that she would savour having a harem slave to thrash. Sharon squeezed my hand to comfort me but it did little as I watched the leather crash into Fatima'a bottom again. Six strokes the poor woman had before she was allowed to painfully rise and rub herself before moving off.

"No milk at all from you. Why?" Matron asked.

"Please, I'm only an observer. I'm not a milker."

"No excuse," Matron snapped just as she had with Fatima, "Over the frame with you."

"Please…" I started to beg.

"You've told her what happens to milkers who are reluctant to take their punishment Sharon?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I can easily make you arse the same colour as your tits Carol if you wish to be restrained." Knowing there was no real choice I lay over the frame.

My first scream must have raised the roof a little as the leather bit into my backside and curled into my hip. "Please no more I begged as the second stroke landed. Sharon told me afterwards I was not hit as hard as Fatima but I found that hard to believe. The pain was far too great and I just hung over the frame almost lifeless. Fortunately I only had six but that was more than enough after which I was promptly dismissed. Against the bulk of Sharon, I must have looked like a baby but she helped me out and dried my eyes. "We do have cream that helps but we mustn't take oral medication in case it finds its way into our milk," she told me as she liberally applied the cream. She found me a dress only a few sizes too large, with support cups that made my breasts look like peas in a bucket. Sharon's fitted her fine. We went to breakfast. Buffet style, healthy food, just like in our cafeteria but there was far more of it. There needed to be judging by the amount the women piled on their plates. The other noticeable difference was the size of the chairs. These were wider, stronger and had thicker padding that ours. I was grateful for the padding. As the pain in my buttocks reduced a little I started to ask Sharon about her life.

"I was born here," Sharon started, "Bred to be a milker from several generations of milkers. There is a nursery section attached to the milking block where girls are raised and given a little education, enough so they can read. Nearly all of the girls start breast development quite early in life. I had ones as big as yours by the time I was twelve and at that time began our sex education. There were several girls in my age group and we witnessed the fucking sessions and handled the men. We were given three menstrual periods before we were bred. I was fourteen when I had my first baby, some are as young as twelve. I remember my first time very well. I wore a red anklet to signify I was to be inseminated and three red anklet men had me one after the other."

"What is the significance of the red anklet on the men?" I asked.

"They have a particularly high sperm count. The ones without are probably nearer to normal and could easily make a girl pregnant but they only get the chance by accident. In general they are just work slaves brought in to do a job five times a day on a rota system."

"Why do they fuck those who are not being inseminated. Are not being bred or who are already pregnant?"

"I think they did some tests years ago and found that having frequent sex produces more milk. So we get fucked five times a day and the slaves get their pricks into us at least once. Gives them some pleasure although often it is one sided. I'm lucky if I get to cum once in the day."

"How often are you milked?"

"Everyone gets milked first thing in the morning and then they go to the stalls as and when they feel the need. I usually go early afternoon and mid evening. The computer adds up your production and sends the total for the day to matron and you saw what happens if your milk production goes down."

"Are you pregnant now?"

"Two months gone with my eighth. Come we should do our daily exercise. We walk in the oasis. It's reasonably cool in the shade of the palm trees and we are encouraged to take the fresh air and to walk at least four kilometres."

She led me out into the sunshine, almost the first time I had been outside since my arrival. My feet must have hardened just by walking barefoot on carpet for a month for I found no trouble in walking on the tiled path or the pebbly sand although it did seem strange to have the sand between my toes for the first few yards. My sore arse prevented me from striding out as I would have liked.

"What happens to the boy babies?" I asked.

"They're trained as work slaves. Usually they become red anklet slaves too having been bred from high sperm count fathers."

We slowly caught up with a laughing group of milkers and I soon became the focus of their attentions and ribaldry, but it was all done without malice. The smallness and the colour of my tits were the main subjects of their joking. One of them whose name I never was told, suddenly asked, "Would you like a taste of my milk? I should have given a bit more this morning because I'm feeling overfull already and I'm leaking. The others will keep watch."

"Help her out," Sharon murmured, "But don't take too much otherwise the computer will know." The woman offered me her huge left nipple and I was pushed towards it. Before I knew it the warm, sweet milk was spurting in my mouth and I swallowed. It wasn't really to my taste but it wasn't unpleasant. I took some from her right breast and we continued on our way. Sharon diverted me from the main path to show me a little fish pond and as we continued on I asked, "What did Fatima mean when she said she was sucked dry at dinner last night?"

"Sometimes at dinner parties or other functions, they like to have milk 'on tap' as they call it. There is one room where there is a long narrow serving hatch and the milkers have to stand behind it and rest their breasts on a narrow shelf. Our nipples overhang the other side of the shelf and when guests require milk in their coffee, they take it direct from us. Occasionally, a guest will suck a tit and drink all they can which, I guess, is what happened to Fatima."

Arriving back about eleven o'clock, we spent an hour in the pool. It was not as luxurious as the harem pool but more than adequate. "Midday fuck time," Sharon called to me. I'd noticed the pool area becoming deserted. Almost as soon I was on the bed and in position, the naked males slaves came in, their pricks ready for action. Again there seemed to be some jostling to get into my cunt but whoever it was that got in first, was soon pounding away. Perhaps I wasn't as inured to it as Sharon, but I came long before the slave.

"Do they ever do it in your bumhole?" I asked Sharon on the way to lunch.

"Frequently. Usually at least once a day. Maybe not with you because I expect your cunt is less well used and it's not passed any babies yet."

Mid-afternoon I went with Sharon to the stalls but didn't have my tits sucked in case I was told to report to matron again. I watched the machine suck and pulsate Sharon's tits and could see the milk flow along the transparent tubing into what looked like a standard sterilising and cooling tank. I took several photos of her being milked.

Sharon spent the afternoon in the small library area reading a novel and I walked and talked with some of the other milkers. All seemed to have been born into the life and had not known any other. We returned to the dormitory for another fuck session before tea and again before dinner. After that I was returned to the harem area, missing out on the final bedtime fuck.

Sapphire commented on my bruised arse. "You do seem to get into the wars," she laughed and laughed even louder when I said it was because I didn't produce enough milk. "You'd better hope that magazine of yours pays you well for all the pain you've gone through. Perhaps though, they will take away points for all the pleasures."