Milking Solutions Pt. 01

Amanda Williams was beautiful. She had small, firm breasts and achingly long legs that often made you wonder how they would feel wrapped around your hips. In her stilettos and tight, form-fitting dresses, she was a paragon of feminine grace. She had to be-- she was the owner and CEO of Milking Solutions, Inc., the largest company in the world.

Despite being one of the most powerful companies on the planet, Milking Solutions Inc was a furtive affair. No one knows what went on in their massive, trillion-dollar complexes and facilities located all across the world, mostly in extremely isolated and rural areas. They were heavily-guarded, with satellite images raising suspicions that those high concrete walls, barbed wire fences, and watchtowers were meant more to keep people in than to keep them out.

Several inquiries were made by international organizations and the US government, but they died out almost as quickly as they had arisen. The politicians and congressmen who had raised the issue disappeared overnight and were never heard from again. From then on, Milking Solutions only grew, and grew, and grew, until their political power rivaled even the strongest of nations.

There was only one odd thing about the company: it was run exclusively by women. No men were allowed within their compounds on a privileged capacity. Their guards, employees, researchers, secretaries, and managers were all women, and all seemed to live on the compounds where they worked. They were certainly big enough.

I was a corporate spy by the name of Andrew Miller. I was twenty-three, and had grinded the corporate ladder obsessively until I had attained a position of a senior level manager for my tech company. In two weeks, however, Milking Solutions was going to aquire my company for a ridiculously low price. The higher-ups hadn't told me why. They just said, in a panicked, enigmatic email, that they needed to do something fast before their company went under, and had assigned me to this job.

I took a deep breath. On this cold February night, I was going to meet with Amanda Williams--the great woman herself--and try to extract as much compromising information as possible. A tiny microphone was attached to the lapel of my suit, the wire running down the side of my hip to a tape recording device that fit neatly against my outer thigh.

An impossibly long black limousine pulled up to the curb of my apartment building. One of the back doors opened, revealing a deceptively spacious area with plush white leather seats that looked thick enough to engulf a man to his neck, a side compartment, and Amanda Miller. She wore her signature pageboy haircut, her lips taut and thin and bright red--as if they had been cut by a blade. Her brown eyes flicker to the seat next to her.

"Get in," she says tersely.

I had never met Amanda Miller in the flesh before. She looked impossibly intimidating, her skin seeming to emnate with an aura of pure, unadultered feminine dominance. I linger on the sidewalk, too shocked to speak. Already, I can feel a hot blush creeping up my throat and onto my cheeks. Why am I so embarassed? I barely even know her.

"You gonna stand there all day or are you going to come inside where it's warm?" she says.

Reluctantly, I duck inside the limousine. I close the door behind me, hearing an imperceptible clicking noise as the door lock snaps shut automatically. In any other case this would have caused alarm bells to go off in my head, but I figured company owners needed their privacy, after all. Or maybe I was just being paranoid.

The limousine is luxuriously comfortable. The windows are tinted pitch-black from the outside, but from the inside I can view the world through a dim blue shade. Not that there's much to see, of course. It's the middle of the night. Amanda Williams wears a tight leather skirt, high heels, and a long-sleeved red blouse that clings smoothly to her skin. She lifts her hand and makes a gesture to the driver up front. The car begins to move at once. Then she settles comfortably in her plush seat.

"So, you must be this new manager everyone's been talking about... Andrew Miller," Amanda says.

"You've done your research," I say casually.

Amanda smirks in a way that seems both unsympathetically cruel and gracefully attractive. "I always do my research, Andrew," she says, taking my hand in hers. I look at her. Is she coming on to me?

"You're the newest one on your floor," Amanda says. "Or so I've heard. They say you like to do things differently, that you have a certain way of operating your departmental unit. Tell me more about that, Andrew."

Graciously, I explain to her the inner workings of how I did things, making sure not to reveal too much information while I tried to get my bearings. I was supposed to be asking her the questions--not the other way around. She's throwing me off my game, but I couldn't refuse her. She might get suspicious, so I obliged her.

I talked for about ten minutes as we drove through the city. All the while, Amanda nodded, listened, and asked me questions. She seemed to genuinely enjoy speaking to me, if not to get closer to me than simply for the sake of business.

"That was fascinating, Andrew," Amanda says, tilting her head curiously. "But I'm afraid we'll have a quick interruption. I hope it won't bother you at all. I need to pick up two clients of mine."

"No problem," I say, nodding eagerly without even realizing I was doing it. I was nervous--terrified, in fact. Here I was, speaking to the most powerful women on the planet, and now she was going to invite her clients over to effectively join our conversation. I have no idea who they would be, but I figure this could be a great opportunity to glean some extra information.

We pull over at a hotel. "Scoot over, sweetie," Amanda says, smiling at me for the very first time. "It's going to get crowded real soon."

I open my mouth, close it. This was a limo, and it seemed strange that her clients should sit inside our area when there were plenty of other seats to choose from. But things seemed to be going well, and I had to make her trust me. I just had to wait until she let her guard down.

I scooted over to Amanda's side, feeling the firm softness of her thigh pressing against mine. The door opens. Two disarmingly attractive women duck inside, wearing thick fur coats that concealed their bodies. Even so, they had enormous, broad-shouldered frames and voluptuous breasts that were each nearly bigger than my head. The two Amazonian goddesses pushed their way inside, immediately cramping up the seating area until the place seemed tiny. They giggled, muttered apologies, their smooth, high voices dripping with honey.

Amanda rolls her eyes. "Why don't you sit between them, Andrew? Honestly, I'm starting to get a bit claustrophobic."

"Yes, of course," I say hastily, not yet realizing I had stepped into a situation I would soon not be able to get out of. Amanda climbs to the seat facing across from me and nodded to me reassuringly. Blushing with embarassment, I clamber over the log-sized thigh of one of her 'clients' and sat down between them, positively dwarfed. It's then when I notice they are both wearing boots with stiletto heels, the black leather shining with an almost sinister venom. I could feel myself growing tighter and tighter inside my pants. Stop, I think. This isn't appropriate. Painstakingly, I try to will my erection away, but it's nearly impossible. Amanda must have arranged this on purpose, just to humiliate me. But that was odd, too--these clients of hers looked more like call girls than businesswomen.

Amanda pulls out a clipboard. She taps her pen against her lower lip, staring at me brightly.

"Andrew, I suppose I should introduce my clients to you before we go on, that's Chastity, and that's Kitty," she says, dropping her pen in each of their directions. "Say hello, girls."

Chastity sat next to my left. She has long, straight platinum blonde hair that goes down to the small of her back, and soft, heart-shaped lips framed by the face of an angel. She smiles warmly, placing an enormous, manicured hand on my thigh. I shift away from her uncomfortably. Amanda definitely arranged this on purpose. Kitty sandwiches me snugly on the other side. She has wavy, lustrous black hair that pooled around her thick shoulders and a tall, stunningly attractive face with narrow eyes and high cheekbones.

"Hi there, cutie," Kitty says, flashing me a toothy grin. "It's so nice to meet you."

"Uh, yes, hi," I stammer, shrinking back into my seat. Wedged between these two giantesses, I felt completely, helplessly trapped.

"We've heard a lot about you," Chastity says, tracing a sharp, candy-pink fingernail up my chest. I push her hand away, but Kitty firmly squeezed my inner thigh with a slender, beautiful hand, and I jump in surprise. "Please, stop--" I gasp, but Chastity resumes her solicitous efforts on my other side, her hand playfully rubbing my groinal area. "A very nice subject," she say, matter-of-factly. "In fact, I think this may be the best one yet."

I look to Amanda for help. But if she appears disturbed by what was happening in front of her, she didn't show it. But I thought I could see the hint of a wicked smile on the corner of her lips. She crosses her legs and places the clipboard against her lap.

"Andrew, while those two girls keep you busy, I want you to answer a few questions for me. Will you do that for me?"

I didn't know what she was getting at, but I figured it was best to just go along. I couldn't afford to lose my cover now.

"Sure, yes, anything," I pant, as Kitty gave my balls a playful squeeze. "You're mine now, cutie," she hisses into my ear.

I ignore her and ferverishly fidgt in my seat as she molests me with her hand. Amanda clicks her pen. "Question one. Your real name is Andrew Miller. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Question two. You are twenty-three years old and work as a senior level manager for the Unitech Corporation. Am I correct?"

"Yes--what is this about, can I ask?"

"Just to make sure you are who you say you are," Amanda says. "Question three. You are not wearing a wire, or any kind of illegal surveillance tool of any kind on your person right now. Am I correct?"

"Yes," I say, suddenly realizing how dangerous of a situation I was in. "Yes, of course I am. Do you really think--"

"Ooh, what's this?" Kitty says, pulling the wire through my shirt.

"Shit!" I shout, reaching out to grab it even when I knew it was too late. Kitty is much bigger than me, and she holds it just out of reach, dangling the wire and the tape recorder above me tauntingly. Chastity let out a gasp of mock surprise. "Oh my god, is he--is that a tape recorder?"

"I believe it is," Amanda says coldly. "Andrew Miller, I believe you just lied under oath."

I didn't know what to say. I'm fucked. "What difference does that make?" I say, suddenly infuriated. The entire thing was a setup--her two 'clients,' the interrogation, how they tried to get me all hot and bothered first.

Amanda glares at me through eyes that are as hard as steel. I'm suddenly afraid of her. This was her true form, this dominatrix who could freeze you with a single stare. "It makes plenty of difference," she says. "For one thing, it means that I'm legally required to keep you here until I can notify the proper authorities."

"You can't call the police," I say. "That would ruin you too."

Amanda grins at me with no sense of mirth. It was purely predatory. She leans forward with her hands clasped together. "Unfortunately for you, Andrew, I am the authority."

Dread begins to bubble in the pit of my stomach. "This is bullshit," I say. "I'm getting out of here."

Just before I can sit up, Kitty shoves me back into the plush leather seat with an astonishing strength. She reaches over my shoulder, grabs the seatbelt, and zips it over my chest before I can react. Chastity does the same on my other side, buckling me in until I'm effectively immobilized. It's some special kind of harness, a bondage seatbelt. I grope for the seatbelt latch, but there was none.

Incensed with panic, I begin to thrash mightily against my restraints. "Oh, I like it when he struggles," Kitty coos, tickling the underside of my chin with her fingers. "It makes me so fucking wet."

"Andrew, Andrew, Andrew," Amanda says, in a disappointed, lilting voice. "Did you really think I didn't know you were wearing a wire?"

I say nothing.

"I've had my eyes on you for quite some time," Amanda goes on. "Ever since you joined Unitech as an intern, I knew I wanted you for myself. Not as a lover, of course. But as one of my milking subjects. Chastity? You know what to do."

Chastity nods and begins to unbuckle my belt with a rapid dexterity that's almost frightening while I fight against my seatbelt.

"You see, I have eyes everywhere," Amanda says. "And just because I don't own a company--yet--doesn't mean I don't know everything that goes on inside. Every command issued, every word spoken. And when I saw that handsome face of yours on the employee roster, well, I just couldn't resist."

Chastity yanks off my pants and boxers in one vigorous motion, exposing my cock to them. It's rock-hard, red and throbbing.

"Baby, what a nice cock you have," Chastity breathes.

"I am going to have so much fun with you," Kitty says, teasingly running her finger up and down the length of my shaft.

"Not a lot of people know about what goes on in my milking compounds," Amanda goes on, completely unaffected. "Except for the ones I capture, of course. Andrew, the reason why I have you here is because of a breakthrough: I've invented a serum that, once injected, will keep you constantly, endlessly awake and horny for the rest of your life--no sleep, no rest, no boredom. And I want you to be my very first participant."

It begins to dawn on me that I'm going to be kidnapped for an irreversible procedure. I arc my back against my harness, letting out a groan of anguish. Just before I can let out a scream for help--someone must hear me, someone has to hear me--Kitty slips a red leather ball gag into my mouth, reducing my cries of desperation into muffled whimpers. "Not so fast, sweetie. We wouldn't want anyone to hear about this exciting news, do we?" Kitty says, with what sounded like genuine concern.

"We need him nice and quiet, like a good boy," Chastity says. "You are being a good boy, aren't you, Andrew?"

"Not after the tape recorder, he's not," Kitty says, letting out a raunchy laugh. "He is going to be in so much trouble." She begins to fondle my balls with her fingers, juggling them so expertly that a long string of precum starts to ooze out of my head.

"Semen, as you know, Andrew, will soon be the most valuable product of the twenty-first century," Amanda goes on. "With this new serum in hand, it's going to revolutionize the way I milk men. Oh, and did I mention it triples the human lifespan?"

"MMMMMMPPPHGGGGHHH!"

"Oh, he sounds so cute, crying for help!" Kitty says. "I wonder what other kind of noises we can get him to make!"

Kitty and Chastity begin to make themselves comfortable, throwing off their thick fur coats, revealing shapely bodies sculpted by tight-fitting leather corsets with zippers at the front, their gargantuan breasts nearly bursting out of them. They're also wearing thigh-high leather boots. Slipping her hand underneath my buttocks, Kitty lifts me up--as far as the restraints will go, at any rate--and drops me back down with her middle finger in my ass.

"Ghhhhh!" I moan, as she starts to rapidly massage my prostate. I fidget wildly in my seat, only serving to make her finger go deeper. She gives me a wicked grin. Meanwhile, Chastity has lowered herself to her hands and knees. She crawled in front of me, and, before I can even get used to the intense fingering, buries her head between my legs.

I throw my head back and howl. "MMMMPHGGGGLLLLRRRMM!"

Chastity's mouth is big enough for my entire cock--shaft, balls, and taint--to fit snugly inside. She closes her thick lips around me, crimping my head against the roof of her mouth, her tongue going wild against my defenseless, engorged testicles.

"It's her mouth against your cock, Andrew," Amanda says, watching me appraisingly. "Who's going to win?"

"MMMMGGGRRHHHMM!"

Chastity drags her lips up my cock slowly, then lifts her head suddenly, making a wet popping noise. She glares at me with lazy, half-lidded eyes, a look that says, Had enough, haven't you? And then decides I haven't. She bobs her head rapidly, sucks on each of my balls between her lips, like hot cherries, and flutters her tongue against my frenulum, causing my eyes to roll back into my skull.

"That tongue can tie a cherry stem into fifteen different kinds of knots," Amanda says. "I've seen it myself."

I struggle and fight and thrash against the harness; it's no use. I'm trapped between Chastity's mouth and Kitty's diabolical fingers. When I try and pull away from Chastity, Kitty speeds up her massage. When I try to sit up, Chastity slams me back down with her mouth, pinning my hips to the plush seat. After what seems like centuries of agonizing, hellish pleasure, I finally feel that familiar tingle in my balls: I'm about to cum.

Chastity's mouth sucks harder. Kitty leans over and bites down on my nipple. I feel a colossal tidal wave building up inside me, a pent-up explosion that will take me farther and higher than I ever have before. I'm going to scream until my lungs burst. Then, just as the pleasure arcs and the orgasm seems imminent, Chastity pulls her head away and Kitty removes her fingers. My throbbing cock bobs in the air. I whimper in terrified confusion.

"Of course, I can't force you to do anything against your will, can I?" Amanda says sweetly. "That would be highly unethical."

She takes out a thick sheaf of papers from behind one of the seats. "So, I need you to sign this form, right here. All it states is that, once you, Andrew Miller, sign it, all of your property, financial assets, and the legality of your person will belong to me. In short, I will be your legal guardian, your caretaker, for the rest of your natural life. But since you're all tied up like that, I'll just have to make things easier for you.

"All you have to do, sweetie, is give me your verbal consent. But there's something we need to do first. Chastity, untie him."

"What?" Chastity says, confused.

"You heard what I said," Amanda snaps.

Chastity reluctantly unlatches my bondage seatbelt. I can't believe this. There's no better time to escape than now, but they have to let their guard down first. But then Kitty bends over and picks up a large, wrinkled black object from inside her fur coat: a straitjacket. She holds it in front of me, the incongruously long sleeves pooling at my feet.

"Here's what you're going to do," Amanda says, clasping her hands together in her lap. "First, you are going to stick your arms out in front of you. You are going to put on that straitjacket, and you are going to take whatever happens next like a good boy. Otherwise, we may have to resort to... other methods to get you to sign that contract. And you wouldn't want that, would you, Andrew?"

I shake my head.

Amanda sits back in her seat. Even Chastity relaxes. The moment Kitty glances the other way, I prime myself like a coiled spring. This is my chance.

I heave forward, ducking out of Kitty's grasp. "Oh no you don't!" Kitty says, blocking my midsection with her forearm. I continue to fight and struggle, kicking against the floor of the limousine for purchase as I reach for the door handle. Kitty shoves back at me, but I'm not going to let her gain the upper hand this time. My fingers curl around the door handle, but it's locked from the inside. Nooooo! I let out a terrified whimper as I struggle against Kitty's bulk with all my might, but she only seems annoyed. "Little help here, Chas?" she says.