The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

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Note: Any resemblance to real people is strictly coincidental. No real people are depicted in this piece of fiction. This story contains explicit male to male sex, domination and bondage. If you don’t enjoy reading this sort of material or are under the age of 21, DO NOT CONTINUE READING. If you regard this type of material as depraved then flee from here and don’t look back!

The Milk Bar—Chapter 46

Burt took a glass and scooped up the cream that Blake had spurted onto his belly and chest. Then, grasping Frank’s still hard dick and the condom covering it, gently pulled the beat cop out of Blake’s hungry mouth, for he was sucking on the milk teat like a starving calf. Burt tugged the condom off and dumped the load into another glass, pressing different colored paper stickies onto each one to differentiate them. He picked up the phone. “I have the new recruits’ samples. Would you like me to bring them up or do you want to come down? . Yes Sir. We’ll be here.” Burt hung up the phone. “Get him unhitched and sit him up boys,” he ordered Greg and Frank, both of whom were a bit spent themselves. They’d been leaning on the table, but at Burt’s command, they lifted themselves up and began to free Blake from his bonds. When they’d finished, they took his feet out of the stirrups, grabbed his arms and swung him into a sitting position on the table. He slumped over, leaning his head on Frank’s shoulder as tears slid down his face. He sobbed quietly.

In a moment, Delaney walked into the room and stood looking at the trio of cops, his hands on his hips. “Looks like we’ve got a good group here,” he smirked. “Where’s the stuff?” “Here you are Sir,” Burt answered, handing him the first glass. “This is Clark’s.” Delaney took the glass and held it up to the light. “Good consistency,” he said and swirled the fluid around in the glass. “Nice coating ability. This almost has legs!” He sniffed the contents and tipped it into his mouth. Swishing it around and closing his eyes, he held it for a moment, swallowed and nodded. “Very good,” he said at last. “Very good indeed. I’ll give him some stuff to increase his output, but other than that, he’s got prime milk.” Burt handed him the glass with Blake’s load. “This is Thompson’s. I scraped it off his belly so you may get a bit of sweat mixed in but it’ll give you the basics.” “Why didn’t you milk him directly into a container?” Delaney asked sharply, glaring at Burt. “You know that sweat skews the taste and smell.” “I thought it was essential to his binding not to interfere with the interaction. I wanted him to directly experience coming while being fucked and giving head,” Burt answered defensively. Delaney stared at him for a moment, then shifted his eyes back to the recruits. Frank was now hugging Blake’s shoulder and soothing him, wiping the tears away from his face. “Okay,” Delaney relented. “It looks like you had the right idea. A little sweat won’t foul it that much.” Burt relaxed a little. “Thank you Sir,” he said.

Delaney repeated the examination procedure with Blake’s man-cream, holding it up to the light, swirling it around, smelling it and tasting it. “Also very good. I think I’d like it a little thicker. Give him fifteen units of T18 and 200 units royal jelly. Throw in some X5 too for flavor.” “Yes Sir,” Burt answered smartly and Delaney wheeled, walking out of the room. “Get them ready for tonight’s show. I want them well-rested. The two new ones will get their first taste of Milk Bar hospitality and I want them to give a good impression their first time out.” “Yes Sir, Mr. Delaney,” Burt answered and turned back to his three man-cows, or maybe it was one man-cow and two man-calves?

Burt ordered Greg to help him lead the two new recruits to the stables. He gave Blake several pills and a bottle of sweet fliud. “Down the hatch, boy,” he ordered and Blake obediently complied. Frank received a bottle of liquid but no pills. He emptied the bottle and handed it back to Burt. “Thank you Sir,” he said and Blake shot out a quick “Thank you Sir,” as well. In a stall with fresh straw, Burt placed them face to face. He pulled Frank’s arms under Blake’s arms and around his body and cuffed him. Then he cuffed Blake’s arms around Frank’s body after pulling them under his arms, locking them together in an embrace. “You boys are going to become a lot more intimate with each others’ bodies, so we might as well get you started out on the right foot,” he chuckled. He and Greg helped them kneel in the straw and to finally lay down on their sides. Burt buckled fleece-lined leather cuffs around the ankles of both recruits and hooked them together, reinforcing the sensation of bondage. Then he whispered some further commands into each of their ears and rose. “You boys get some rest; you’re going to make your ‘Milk Bar’ debut tonight so you’ll need the energy.” Burt switched off the lights and led Greg out of the room. Already, Frank’s ivory penis was swelling and the head was beginning to darken with blood. It rose under Blake’s denuded cock and balls, tickling and rubbing them and making him, once again, erect.

Blake lay there in the dark, his arms entwined in the arms and around the body of another man; a man whose hard sex was pushing up under his own tumescent cock and tender, aching milk bag. Milk bag? Why milk bag? It was his scrotum; his balls. But somehow he thought of that part of his body as his milk bag. He tried to focus his thinking but his thoughts were circling and swimming and refusing to stay in one place. His attention was drawn to the points of Frank’s tits that were poking his own chest. They felt so, so. so sexy. Sexy? That was what his brain and his body were telling him. He squeezed Frank closer. How could this be? This was another man he was holding. He’d always thought himself straight. How could he be hugging another man and be feeling to turned on? He leaned his head back and looked searchingly into Frank’s blue eyes, shining up at him in the dim light. Frank looked back at him, narrowed his eyes, looking quizzical. Then he nodded to Blake and Blake, feeling overwhelmed, leaned forward and kissed him hard, shoving his tongue into Frank’s hungry mouth.

* * *

Burt and Greg returned to the Mind Training Room. “Mr. Delaney’s ordering some slight tuning on your training, boy. Step up to the post here.” Greg looked at Burt, fear filling his eyes with tears. “Please Sir. What tuning? What’re you going to do?” “What’s the matter boy? Why are you crying?” “I don’t want to be like Ted. Please don’t take away my mind.” Burt smiled and put a hand on Greg’s shoulder. “Calm down boy. I’m not going to take away your mind. You’re not being punished. You’re the best man-cow in the stable and we very pleased with you. I’m just going to do a little modification in your memory filter so that you recognize your. your.” Burt stopped for a moment. “My what Sir?” Greg pleaded. Burt gave a pained sigh. “Your lover!” he spat out. In his relief, Greg didn’t notice Burt’s exasperation. “My lover? I’ll know him? He comes here?” Part of the standard programming for Milk Bar man-cows was a memory block that prevents them from recognizing men they might know outside the premises of the Bar. It was a protection for the Milk Bar as well as their clients. Men in their positions didn’t need to live in fear of being blackmailed by an opportunistic slave. “That’s right,” Burt said. “We’re going to make an exception in your case because we trust both of you. And besides, if you expose him, you expose yourself. So we’re safe either way.” But Greg wasn’t listening. “He comes here and I’ll know him. What will he think of me?” Burt grabbed Greg’s shoulders. “What will he think of you? He loves you. Don’t you know that? He knows what you do here and he loves you. Don’t you understand that?” Greg’s eyes darted around Burt’s face, failing to find a focal point because his brain couldn’t focus on what he’d just heard. “Yes. yes, I know that,” Greg stammered. “It just still doesn’t make sense to me. He loves me. he loves me.” Greg drew a deep breath and drew himself up. “OK. Let’s go.”

Burt used leather straps to bind Greg to a post. Then he wheeled one of the computers over and placed it in front of the cop. He booted it up and keyed in some commands. “I’ll get this started and be back in a couple of minutes to make the changes in your programming. Won’t take long.” Burt started the program and turned to stroke Greg’s cheek. Greg looked at him, a quizzical look on his face. What was going on with Burt? He couldn’t figure it out. A strange shadow flickered across Burt’s eyes and was gone. “Pay attention to the screen boy,” he said and gently slapped Greg’s cheek. Then he walked out of the room. Greg looked at the door Burt had gone through a moment before. Then his eyes were drawn to the familiar swirling patterns on the monitor and he lost himself in the motion.

The Milk Bar—Chapter 47

When Greg awoke, he was lying in his stall. The lights were low but he could see men; handlers leading man-cows around, getting them ready for the night. Greg sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking around, enjoying the sight of his herd mates, many with their cocks, firm with blood, swinging in front of their heavy milk sacs. Then Burt was standing in front of his stall. “C’mon boy. Time to get ready for the show.” “Yes Sir,” Greg replied, rising from the straw and followed Burt out of the stalls. Burt led Greg to the shower room and ordered him to clean up. After Greg took a quick shower, Burt turned on his heel and strode out of the room with Greg in tow.

Burt, with Greg following behind, entered one of the rooms off the hall leading to the stairs that rose to the main floor of the Milk Bar. Blake and Frank were waiting there, their hands clasped behind their backs, their heads lowered, their legs spread. It was obvious that they’d already cleaned up after their earlier induction activities. Greg’s mind, experienced in taking in critical details quickly, noticed that, as they stood side by side, in a submissive pose, their feet were touching and their bodies were leaning, ever so slightly, toward one another. But before he could formulate the meaning of these subtle signs, Harry strode into the room carrying blue uniforms. “OK,” Burt said, “here’s the scene for tonight’s show. You three are the opener. You two,” he said, pointing at Greg and Frank, “are bringing this guy in,” indicating Blake. “He’s crooked and you’re going to ‘fix’ him. So you’ll drag him up on stage, strip him, play with him and then do him. His hands will be cuffed behind his back so unbutton his shirt and pull it off his shoulders. Work his tits over. Give him a good work-out. Understand? Got it?” “Yes Sir,” Greg answered for all of them. “Good. Get dressed; briefs for you two,” he said, motioning to Greg and Blake, “and this jock for you,” holding out a black jock to Frank.. You’ll fuck his ass,” he said to Greg, “and you,” he said, turning to Frank, “will fuck his mouth. Got it, boy?” “Yes Sir,” Frank answered, hanging his head even farther. But his cock began to fill. “Good,” said Burt, turning to go to other “acts” that required his attention. “And be sure to lube him Barber. We don’t need to hurt him his first time out. And just so you know, we’ve auctioned off his first load, so a lucky customer will be coming up for the finish.” “Yes Sir,” Greg responded and turned to his two fellow cop-slaves.

“OK boys, let’s get ready,” Greg ordered Blake and Frank. “Yes Sir,” Frank answered, moving out of the parade rest position. But he remained close to Blake, who stayed in position, his head bowed. “Greg? Sir?” he ventured quietly. “What’s up Blake?” “I somehow don’t think it’s right. I mean I like Frank, but I’m a lieutenant. Is it right for a beat cop to, to, to.” “To what Blake? What’s the problem?” “Is it right for him to put his dick in my mouth? To fuck my face?” “Blake, we’re all the same here. The Milk Bar gives us ranks here and we do what they tell us to do. That’s why we’re here. We’re man-cows who do what we’re told. OK? When we get up there, it’ll seem like the way it should be. OK? Don’t worry, I’ve been through it and it’ll feel right. OK?” “OK,” Blake said, raising his eyes to look uncertainly into Greg’s. Greg placed his hands on Blake’s shoulders. “It’ll be OK. You’ll be OK. Don’t worry Blake.” The corners of Blake’s mouth lifted slightly in an attempted smile. “OK,” he said. “Let’s go.” “Good boy,” Greg smiled, slapping Blake on the shoulder. “OK, let’s get you lubed,” Greg said, and took a small handful of lube from the dispenser on the wall. “Bend over and pull your butt cheeks apart.” Blake bent and reached back, spreading his ass cheeks. He felt Greg’s hand on his back. Then he felt the cool slickness against his pucker. Slowly, Greg pushed his fingers into the tight ring, first his middle finger, then, once he felt the sphincter relaxing, his index finger. He twisted his fingers around, stretching Blake’s ring and greasing the inside of his anus. Blake grunted in his throat, clenching his ass around the fingers invading him. Where before he’d have been outraged at having a man with his hand inside his butt, his body now welcomed the intrusion and his mind told him this was right. At that moment, Greg felt Blake’s sphincter drawing his fingers deeper inside.

Finally, Greg pulled his fingers loose and Blake’s hole closed with a snap. “OK,” Greg said. “Let’s get dressed.” Greg and Blake pulled the white briefs up over their legs and tucked their heavy equipment inside the pouches. The briefs were cut a bit small to further accentuate the size of the man-cows’ considerable baskets. Meanwhile, Frank pulled on the jock strap and did his best to tuck himself into the sheer mesh pouch. Then they all put on their shirts and pants. They pulled blue socks on their feet and put on the black oxfords that had been put out for them. They buckled on their utility belts. Lastly, they placed the regulation caps on their heads. They were ready to go. At that moment, they heard a roar from upstairs and Burt hurried into the room. “OK. Cuff him and get up there. You know what to do Barber so you direct the action. And be careful getting him up the stairs. We don’t need to have a new member of the herd breaking his neck on his first night. Besides, one of the customers paid big to get his load. So get going.”

Greg pulled Blake’s arms behind his back and slapped cuffs on him. “Frank, you go in front of him and help him; I’ll go behind and make sure he doesn’t fall. Once we get to the top of the stairs, we’ll rush him up onto the stage. Then just follow my lead. Got it?” “Yes Sir,” the two recruits answered almost in unison. Frank led Blake to the stairs and started up, holding Blake’s arm. Greg held onto Blake’s belt to ensure that he didn’t trip and fall. They proceeded up the stairs, rising toward the roar. There was already a very noticeable bulge in all three cops’ crotches as Frank opened the door and the trio rushed up onto the stage to a rising crescendo of cheers and whistles.

The Milk Bar—Chapter 48

Center-stage was a sturdy, bare table; a thick wood deck atop four solid legs braced by spanners with a lower shelf along the length. It was completely functional being slightly longer and slightly wider than a man’s torso. Greg threw Blake, belly down, across the table. “What the hell did you think? You think you could fuck the department over and get away with it? You think we wouldn’t see? We wouldn’t care? Well you were wrong, you fuck! And we’re going to make sure you never try to fuck the department again!” Greg grabbed Blake’s hair and pulled his head up, glaring at him. Blake just stared back, defiant. Greg grabbed his collar and pulled him upright. “OK, let’s show him what happens to cops who screw the department. Get his shirt off him.” Frank began to unbutton Blake’s shirt, exposing his now-smooth chest. As his brown nipples showed under the lights, they rose to sharp points. Frank, leaving Blake’s shirt in place for the moment, reached up and took the mounds between his thumbs and fingers. He squeezed the cones and shook them rapidly up and down. Blake’s breath caught in his throat and he rolled his head back, moaning and leaning back against Greg’s body.. Greg, took his hair and pulled Blake’s head back against his shoulder. “You like that, boy? Yeah, you like it don’t you? We’ll let’s find out what kind of a pussy boy you really are.” Greg reached around Blake’s trunk and unbuckled his belt while Frank continued his assault on Blake’s tits. Greg pulled Blake’s shirt off his shoulders, leaving it hanging from his cuffed wrists. Pressing his body against Blake’s ass and back, grinding his mound into Blake’s mounds and running hands over the bound cop’s shoulders, down the slabs of his pecs, pausing to caress his nipples and continuing down his belly to his briefs, he took hold of Blake’s tumescent cock. “Yes, boy, my pussy boy. We’re going to straighten you out but good. You’re going to be our personal pussy and you won’t stray again, will you pussy boy?” “No Sir,” Blake moaned, lost in his hypnosis and drug-induced lust.

Greg unbuttoned Blake’s pants, pulled down the fly and let them drop to the floor. Then he pulled down his own zipper, extracted his firm dick from his briefs and proceeded to hump Blake’s brief-hidden ass crack. As Blake groaned, Greg grabbed his cuffed hands and pulled them up, forcing Blake to bend forward. He gasped from the sudden pain in his shoulders and Greg said “Stuff that hole boy,” to Frank. Frank quickly pulled his pink ivory rod out of his fly and shoved it into Blake’s gaping mouth. Grabbing Blake’s ears he yelled “Bite it and you’re dead. Understand pig?” Blake could only nod his head and grunt “Uhh uhh” around the phallus filling his mouth. Yells rang out from the audience who couldn’t get enough of the show featuring three cops in uniform doing the dirty right in front of them. After humping Blake’s brief-concealed butt for a time, Greg released his arms and stepped back. “Let’s get him across the table,” he ordered Frank who obediently pulled his spit-slicked dick out of Blake’s drooling mouth. A thread of saliva briefly tied Frank’s penis and Blake’s lips with a shiny filament before it broke and disappeared as Frank stepped back. He grabbed Blake’s arm and guided him to the table where he pushed him down on his belly.

Greg produced a long leather belt which he drew across Blake’s back and arms and pulled under the table. He buckled it, pinning Blake to the table. Then, stepping toward the front of the stage, he motioned to Frank with one finger. Frank looked into Greg’s clear blue eyes and would have followed him anywhere, hypnosis or not. Breathing in expectation through his slightly opened mouth, he stepped up to his lieutenant. Greg raised his hands and began unbuttoning Frank’s shirt. Frank’s eyes were locked on his and he smiled slightly. Then nodding down toward his own chest, he indicated that Frank should reciprocate. Flummoxed for a split second, Frank’s hands collided with Greg’s as he raised them to touch the chest of a man he’d admired for so long. Then he navigated around Lt. Barber’s hands and reached the buttons of his shirt. He began to unbutton Greg’s shirt as Greg was undressing him. Blake lay strapped to the table and could only turn his head sideways and crane his neck to watch these two handsome cops remove one another’s clothing. Greg finished unbuttoning Frank’s shirt and paused while Frank worked his way down the buttons on Greg’s shirt, exposing Greg’s fur-coated chest, his nipples already standing at attention, the ring through his right tit, glinting in the spotlights. Frank stood entranced by the ring. He ran the tip of a finger around the circle, brushing Greg’s cone eliciting a sharp inhalation from the lieutenant. Greg grabbed Frank’s head and pulled his mouth to his ringed nipple and Frank suckled there like a new-born calf. He took the ring in his mouth and flicked it up and down, making a clinking sound on the backs of his teeth. He wanted a ring through his tit! He sucked loudly and licked and nuzzled the fur surrounding the pointed mound of flesh. Then, taking the lead, Greg pushed the shirt off Frank’s shoulders and reaching for his pink nipples, pulled Frank to him and kissed him deeply. Startled, Frank held his hands up and back for a moment and then, lost in the moment, wrapped his arms around Blake’s neck and kissed him in return. He thrust his tongue into Greg’s mouth and felt his teeth and tongue. For several moments, the two officers lost track of where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. The audience was so taken with the scene being acted out in front of them that they collectively held their breath until someone could stand it no longer and broke into whistles and applause.

The two men suddenly remembered what they were about and broke their clench. Greg turned Frank to face the audience and ran his hands through the copper wire on his chest, tweaking his nubs as he went over them. Frank closed his eyes and drew a sharp breath. Then Greg unbuckled Frank’s belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He performed a strip tease with Frank as his puppet, slowly pulling his pants down, exposing his pale flesh and the bulging pouch of his jock strap. Greg walked around Frank’s body and pulled his right arm straight up, then his left, making him interlock his fingers. Then, circling him again, he stroked the white skin covering the hard muscles of the red-headed cop. He pulled Frank’s hands down behind his neck and pushed his elbows back, exposing his red-furred pits. After taking a deep whiff of his armpits, licked the sweaty hair. He licked his lips and pulled at the hair with his teeth, pulling another ragged breath and a moan from Frank. Then Greg moved behind Frank and took the waistband of his jock. He snapped it and Frank grunted. Greg snapped the straps running over Frank’s ass melons making Frank grunt again with each snap. Greg pushed his fingers under the waistband and reaching around from behind, slid his hands into the pouch, cupping Frank’s newly shaven crotch, cock and balls in his hands. At this, Frank groaned deeply and his knees buckled for an instant but Greg held him up. He fondled him for several moments, drawing more cheers and whistles from the audience. Finally, he pushed Frank’s jock down and let it drop to the floor, exposing his naked groin to the spotlights. Frank’s rigid cock flew up, slapping against his belly and flipping drops of pre-cum onto the stage and Greg’s hands. Greg slowly raised his hands to his mouth and licked the man-honey off with slow strokes of his tongue. The audience broke into cheers and applause again. The show was incredible! Delaney caught Burt’s eye, nodded and smiled. The Milk Bar had struck a gold-mine. And the cops hadn’t even gotten to the meat of the act yet.

With Frank stripped, Greg backed him up and pushed him backward to lie on top of Blake’s back, shoving a strained groan out of the bottom cop. Greg squatted and took Frank’s rigid pole in his hand. He flicked the dripping tip with his tongue bringing groans from Frank’s gut as he rolled his head back and forth across Blake’s shoulders. Blake could only lie there, crushed beneath Frank’s supine body. Greg teased the red helmet of the cop-slave’s cock and then swallowed it whole, spearing his throat with it and singing around it. Frank thought he was going to lose his mind. He’d never been blown like this in his life and didn’t know that it could be so exciting. And to have mouth music played on his cock in front of a crowd of hooting, cheering men brought out an exhibitionist streak in him he hadn’t known was there. He wanted the audience to know how great it was and so he grabbed Greg’s head, pulled himself into a sitting position and looked out at the audience with a look of complete lust on his face. He pursed his lips and squinted, then raised his eyebrows, letting the sensations flooding his body play across his face for the benefit of the crowd and they loved it. In the meantime, Greg had circled Frank’s balls with his thumb and fingers and was pulling them downward, heading off any possibility of Frank’s shooting his load prematurely.

After a couple of minutes of whetting the audience’s appetite, Greg rose and pulled Frank to his feet. Blake inhaled deeply, just glad to have the weight lifted from his back. Greg pulled Frank to him and whispered something in his ear, then kissed him. Frank nodded and moved to the end of the table where Blake’s mouth was available. Greg went off-stage for a moment and when he returned, he had more leather belts. The longer one, he handed to Frank who used it to strap Blake’s neck down, making it impossible for him to move his head. Greg, meanwhile, was strapping Blake’s legs to the legs of the table. Then he took another long belt and ran it under the table and across the small of Blake’s back, buckling him down and further immobilizing the man-cow. Greg turned to the audience. “Two holes! What are they good for?” “Stuff ‘em. Plug ‘im” men yelled. “Fuck him good.” “OK,” Greg yelled. “You want it; you got it!” He and Frank turned simultaneously to face Blake’s waiting holes. Frank pulled Blake’s mouth open and shoved his dick into the warm, wet orifice. Greg knelt and thrust his tongue into Blake’s ass. The sudden tickling intrusion in his ass made Blake squeal, but his mouth was full of cop-cock so the noise was muffled but it could be heard, making the audience roar with delight.

Blake was lost in these sensations: the noise of the crowd, the feeling of a damp, warm wriggling creature in his ass that he’d never experienced and never thought to experience, the warm, hard-soft flesh in his mouth that somehow translated to his own cock. It wasn’t his cock, but it was. He somehow knew what it was feeling; he knew what Frank was feeling and he felt something for Frank. He didn’t know what it was, but it was at least a sense of camaraderie. Somehow they’d been pulled into this together and were sharing this strange experience. And he didn’t know why, but he found it arousing. His cock, lying pinned beneath his body, was hard as it ever had been and he knew there was a puddle of pre-cum collecting on the table. He didn’t understand it but he was sure he wanted more. Greg, who was now rimming hard, stood up and unbuckled the belt across Blake’s upper back, freeing his arms. Then he moved his stiff pole to rest on Blake’s ass-crack. Blake reached back and pulled at Greg as best he could, pulling his cock to the entrance to his hole. He couldn’t get hold of too much of him, but what he could, he wanted and his hands strained trying to pull as much of Greg Barber into his body as he could manage. When tip of cock met pulsing rosebud, Greg pushed in with one smooth stroke, making Blake squeal once more, only more loudly and more wantonly as his hole was breached by the pile-driver of Greg’s penis. Greg began to fuck hard, and with each stroke, he pulsed his cock, massaging Blake’s prostate, stroke after stroke. Ah, it felt so good. Who could’ve dreamt? And the cock in his mouth... Frank’s cock, his buddy’s cock. He felt like it was his own and imagined how it felt to be enveloped in the warm wetness of his mouth. So he worked it with his tongue, doing his best to satisfy it, to satisfy himself.

Burt escorted one of the patrons onto the stage, a tall, slim man in his 30s, with reddish-blonde hair. “Here you are gentlemen. The winner of this cop’s load.” Cheers and whistles echoed in the room. Burt guided the milker over to the table and helped him strip off. A fine dusting of golden hair coated his pecs and slid down his belly to his fine blond bush. Burt helped him slide onto the lower shelf and another man-cow came and knelt between the milker’s legs and began stroking his pale dick. Burt flipped a lever on the side of the table and a panel slide out from underneath Blake’s lower abdomen. His cock stuck through the hole, stiff and dripping.

The golden customer looked up at the cop cock drooling above his face. He opened his lips and, grabbing the stiff rod, pointed the oozing piss-slit at his mouth. The rookie man-cow struggled for breath as he was suddenly subject to yet another stimulation to already overloaded circuitry. The lucky milker squeezed the milk teat in his hand and urged even more honey onto his lapping tongue. Then he raised himself and took the raging dick in his mouth. As he did, the assisting man-cow closed his mouth over the milker’s golden rod and reached up to tweak and twist his nipples. Meanwhile, Greg was stroking Blake’s ass and prostate and Frank was filling his mouth. Blake thought he might lose his mind. It was too much. Mouth, ass, cock. Stimulus upon stimulus. The muscles in his torso tensed as he felt a boiling in his balls. Greg, feeling Blake’s muscles clenching around his cock, shouted to the assisting man-cow “Go. Take him!” The man-cow gave it his all, working the milker’s nipples and doing his best mouth music. He placed a knee at the milker’s rosebud, applying additional pressure. Then, just as Blake screamed around the cock filling his throat, his lucky milker yelled around his dick and shot into his own milker’s mouth. Greg shouted as he filled Blake’s ass chute and Frank yelled and stiffened, his hips pumping into Blake’s gut, filling it with man cream. Four men came in unison, their cries and groans mingling together in their ecstasy.

To be continued.