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Episode 113: Mother’s Milk
Ms Jones the Human Biology and Sex Ed teacher had already exhausted all the legal material for her Year 11 class, attended by Molly and Rachel.
The GCSEs were nearly over and most ch*ldren would be leaving soon for the long summer holiday and then start at the local Sixth Form college.
Ms Jones planned one last day for her class to remember – a trip to the slightly obscure Mothers Milk farm. It had no web-site and no need of any advertising, but was very well known by the local maternity units and a large number of satisfied private clients.
“Do we need to bring anything?” asked Molly, thinking wellington boots for the mud.
“Just an open mind” replied Ms Jones “it will all become clear when we arrive.”
Ms Jones collected the expectant group of 10 students from the gates in the School Minibus and drove out into the Hampshire countryside. Turning off the main road into a narrow wooded lane, they passed several traditional dairy farms and cottages before arriving at a gorgeous brand new oak-framed dormer bungalow. Once through the automatic front gate, Ms Jones parked the minibus discreetly beside one of the many outbuildings and climbed down.
A pretty young girl rushed out, throwing her arms around the teacher’s neck.
“Hello sweetheart – you are looking particularly gorgeous today”, said Ms Jones, stroking the ch*ld’s bump.
“Mum – stop embarrassing me. You know I look dreadful in this skimpy shift dress we’re all required to wear”.
It is true – the short white see-through dress did little to hide her engorged dark nipples or enormous pregnancy bump, but Lisa introduced herself to the class anyway.
“Welcome to Mother’s Milk – I’ll explain what goes on when we get inside, just follow me”.
Lisa led the way, the boys ogling her petite teenage bottom, while the girls wondered about her prominent steel bracelet bearing the number 3.
Inside the brand new bungalow, it was clear why the huge windows were silvered, so that the occupants could see out, but nobody outside could watch the antics of the mostly-naked teenager’s inside.
“You’re all pregnant” Rachel gasped, surveying the dozen or so young girls walking around supporting their bumps or patiently waiting for their next milking session.
Some of the girls voluntarily wore steel collars instead of the ID bracelets, leaving their wrists free for fisting.
Ms Jones explained that she had set up the centre initially just to provide a home for pregnant teens, whose family’s wouldn’t allow them a termination, but we’re still too young to properly look after a baby.
Her daughter, Lisa was their first entrant, giving birth 3 months later. It was while the midwife was helping Lisa deal with her overflowing supply, breast-feeding her baby, before giving him up for adoption, that the idea of supplying the surplus milk to other mothers arose.
Lisa experimented with various boys to father her next ch*ld güvenilir bahis siteleri and was pregnant again within a month, so her milk supply kept flowing.
Once the establishment was home to 10 girls, Ms Jones and her regular midwife helper trialled the first milking parlour.
Unlike most dairy farms, once the Human Cows had been successfully serviced by the DNA-tested ‘bulls’, they were free to come and go as they pleased. Many were allowed home at the weekends for family visits, but always returned, often slightly more pregnant, desperate for milking.
“Come on k**s – let me show you how it works. There’s no set times for milking – we just get up and go whenever the tits are getting a bit uncomfortable”.
Lisa pressed her identity bracelet to the door sensor, which swished open to reveal a spotless, bright room with a curious stainless steel machine in the centre.
Lisa shrugged out of her dress, hanging it on a hook; now utterly naked she placed her feet in the raised foot-rests.
“Some girls prefer to kneel, but I like to stand”. The milking machine adjusted the padded bar to the right height to support Lisa’s bump as she leant forward to drop her swollen breasts into the automatic vacuum pumps.
The curly pipes pulsated as the milk was sucked from her overflowing breasts, ran it through a chiller and gradually filled a glass flask. Everyone’s attention was on Lisa’s blissful expression, until Molly noticed the lubricated dildo entering her other end as the fucking machine sprang into life.
Lisa adjusted the speed and depth of the thrusts, timing her climax to coincide with the completion of milk extraction.
As she panted towards her orgasm, Ms Jones suggested they give her some privacy and they left the room, returning to the main lounge.
Recovering slowly from watching the blatant sexuality of human milk production, Rachel thought she was on safer ground asking about how distribution was handled.
Lisa had rejoined the school party, pulling on a pair of leggings, but leaving her breasts bare to cool off (she said).
“OK so the HUCOWS look quite contented, without needing to be chained up or filled with d**gs, but what about the bull?” asked Molly
Ms Jones explained that they employed a team of motorcycle couriers to deliver the fresh milk to the local maternity units and private clients.
The all-male riders were only paid expenses, but often collected tips for extra personal services from grateful ladies after delivery. Their other duties included ensuring that Lisa and the other girls remained pregnant throughout the year; fucking each one every week, whether they needed it or not.
Births were handled by a visiting midwife and the babies put up for adoption after a week or so.
Lisa’s bracelet confirmed this was her third pregnancy and she was now producing enough milk to start her own yoghurt brand.
Needless to say another profitable güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri revenue stream was the Pregnant Lesbian Sex and Milking webcam sessions for a very discerning (mostly male) clientele.
Rachel
Since falling for Mikey, I’ve been straight as a die, hardly noticing the hot girls of my own age in school.
Years ago I’d had a fling with a girl from the swimming club, when the slap and tickle in the changing rooms got a bit out of hand. We had kissed and finger fucked that very first time, but the passion only lasted for a month or so before we both discovered boys.
But now, with the room reeking of female hormones, my panties were feeling rather damp.
Suddenly Ms Jones looked so desirable, playing with her daughter Lisa, stroking anti-stretch cream onto her breasts and bump.
They dobbed cream onto each others noses, laughing and joking on the sofa.
I couldn’t help joining in, leaning over the back, kissing the side of Ms Jones neck. Thinking of the age difference between Molly and her lover Emma, I had to ask: “how can you still be so young Ms Jones and have a daughter my age?”
“Don’t forget the two grandch*ldren” added Lisa, pulling at my blouse to check out my tits.
I dissolved into her arms – her mouth devouring mine as her mum lowered my jeans and cupped my bottom.
“Come here baby girl, this could get me the sack, but you’re worth it, and call me Lizzy”.
Lizzy dragged Lisa and me off to the Play Room, shedding our few remaining clothes along the way.
All four walls of the Play Room were mirrored, floor to ceiling; the padded vinyl floor providing the perfect surface for tribbing, which Lizzy pulled me into. Oh she was good – grinding her pussy into mine, grabbing my tits, making me so wet that I barely noticed the blinking red LEDs on the numerous cameras mounted on the ceiling.
I managed to flip her over and thought I was winning the trib ‘contest’ when the image of Molly sucking off a motorcycle courier appeared on the huge monitor on one wall. There was no sound, but she was clearly enjoying her first taste of straight sex for some time.
Below the monitor was a row of Sybian masturbation machines, with single or double dildos. Some of which appear to have been replaced by Kegel electro-stimulation Vaginal Probes for toning up pussy muscles after birthing. Lisa straddled one of these, sinking her lubricated cunt onto the probe and setting the Sybian to a slow rotation speed – she looked blissfully happy.
Distracted, I succumbed to her Mum’s grinding; cumming in buckets when a fat dildo slid up my exposed arse.
Molly
Meanwhile in the Mating Room, in contrast to Rachel, Molly had been pretty starved of straight sex since becoming Emma’s plaything and now craved some hot male company.
Molly removed her black skirt, white blouse, and black tights. She kept on her sheer black bra and matching damp panties, güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri figuring that the boys might appreciate them.
Straddling the Fucking bench, Molly now had the two couriers, Dave and Pete, out of their leather trousers and cocks in her hands. She couldn’t help watching Lizzy and Rachel via the video feed trying out a double-ended dildo in the Play Room.
One guy secured her hands with his leather belt, encouraging his colleague to eat Molly’s pussy while he fucked her face.
“How long have you been working here” Molly tried to ask with a mouthful of Dave’s cock.
“Nearly 3 years now – I was Lisa’s first. Her Mum Lizzy was so controlling – she insisted on using AI to get her pregnant back then. She milked us and squirted it up her precious daughter when she was – you know – ovulating”.
“That was never going to work” added Pete, thrusting up into Molly’s tight backside – “so we just went for Natural Insemination – every week – that did it”.
“But even now, we’re not allowed to waste the sperm – so no oral or anal – this is bliss” said Pete, flipping Molly over to cum on her tits.
Then they swapped over, finally double penetrating the babe, with tears streaming down her face and cum seeping from her well-fucked pussy.
“Have you still got those tights, babe? Could you put them back on?”
Molly looked confused, until Pete produced a purple feeldoe, gesturing for her to insert it into his backside.
“I’m sure you’ve used one of these before with your girlfriend”.
“You have to be k**ding – you want me to peg you?”
“Then me, I’ve never need fucked by a lesbian” chimed in Dave, grabbing the anal lube.
“OK you two – on your knees – let’s see if we can waste a bit more of your precious spunk”, Molly plowed into Pete’s arse while jacking off Dave.
House tour
The rest of the class were treated to a tour of the home, marvelling at the huge kitchen/diner where the resident cook whipped up tasty meals at any time of the day or night.
The communal bedroom, for sleeping and occasional mating, was upstairs, next to the en-suite bathroom for bathing, toilet-sex and private masturbation.
Most of the resident’s educational needs were met by Ms Jones and the internet.
A Doctor called in every day on her way to the Health Centre to check that all their medical needs were fully addressed.
The boys in the class were mesmerized by the lesbian porn compilations playing on monitors in every room. Today this was showing Squirting 101, featuring Eliza Jane and Riley Reid, carefully synchronised so that they could continue watching the hot babes fingering as they walked from room to room.
The tour finished with a visit to the bottling room, where the milk was tested, carefully packed in glass jars and labelled with a topless photo of the donor for full traceability.
Molly would love to have stayed on longer, getting to know her two couriers after fucking their brains out, but was off on holiday to Fuerteventura tomorrow with mum Justine and needed to pack one or two bikinis and sex toys.
Lizzy Jones gave Rachel her phone number, as she drove the class back to school, just in case she fancied any more lesbian tuition over the long summer break while Mikey was at work.
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