Shorts

Moody Milking


The spots around her eyes look like smudgy black eyeliner. She has a button nose, her black hair is pulled up in twin pigtails, and her full lips are painted black. She’s adorable, but you’d have a horn in each eye the moment you tried to call her “cute”.

Her breasts are swollen and straining her ripped black t-shirt. She crosses her arms under them, trying to look aloof, but she’s clearly trying to relieve some of their weight.

As you approach with a bucket, she rolls her eyes. She says, “This again?”

You remind her that this happens every day.

“Tsk. Whatever. I’m over it.” The wet spots over each nipple are just barely visible on the black fabric. As she shifts her arms under her breasts, the wetness widens.

You offer to skip today, if she’d prefer.

She rolls her eyes again. “Just get it over with already.” She reaches down to the bottom of her shirt and strips it off, her breasts bouncing back into place as she throws her shirt to the side.

Her nipples are swollen and leaking, her breasts heavy on her chest.

You remark that she doesn’t look like she could have waited until tomorrow.
“Fuck you, pervert. Hurry up!”

You reply that you’re not quite sure if you should be staying or going.

She huffs, crossing her arms under her chest again, and the discomfort is clear on her face. She blushed, then glances up at you.

She won’t say it, but it’s the same old song and dance every time. She’s ready to be milked.

You approach and she looks away but turns her chest towards you. You place the bucket at your feet and then cup each of her breasts in a hand.

Gently, you start to massage.

She gasps and closes her eyes. She bites her lip, and her composure starts to slip as you apply your gentle touch to her sore breasts.

You give her a little extra foreplay today. She relaxes into it but then starts glancing towards you, clearly yearning for the next step, but unwilling to say so.

“T-taking your sweet time?”

You remind her that you can’t rush perfection. But, you offer to move on.

“F-fine. Whatever.”

You kneel down and she follows, the bucket between you. She leans forward slightly so that her breasts hang over the bucket.

You bring a hand up under each breast and lift slightly. Her fullness is heavy on your palms.

Gently, you circle her areolas with your fingertips.

She shudders, biting her lip, as milk beads on her nipple.

Before she can protest, you take her nipple in your hand, squeeze gently, and tug.

She stifles a moan as a stream of milk flows out of her. She presses her breasts towards you with her hands.

You ask her why she’s now so eager.

“Eager to g-get this over with, obviously.”

You tug on her nipple again and she holds back a gasp at the next stream of milk. It proceeds like this for a few moments, her trying to hide her gasps and moans of pleasure.

Then her cheeks flush redder. Her eyes, which had been glancing sidelong, flutter shut. She stops biting her lips and they part with a little moan.

She starts rocking her hips on her heels, stimulating her flower. She must be a aching with desire.

You milk her, alternating breasts, her moans growing louder and louder and the streams of milk growing thicker.

She no longer attempts to hide her pleasure. She moans openly, grips her breasts in her hands to squeeze more out for you.

Finally, her desire becomes irresistible and she drops a hand to her flower.

The wet sounds of her fingers over her vulva join her moans and the splashing of the milk in the bucket.

“Ohhh fuck…” As her breasts empty into the bucket, the fluids from her flower drip onto the floor. “Fuck…”

You put a hand to each of her nipples, squeezing and tugging steadily, giving her the sensations she craves.

She alternates fucking herself with her fingers and rubbing her clit, her aroudal steadily building.

“Oh, fuck… holy shit…” Her body trembles, her milk comes in spurts. But you know that this is not all. This is just the edge.

Her eyes flash open. They lock onto yours, and they are nearly black with arousal. She sees you, with no pretense, no pretending. She gasps, “Milk me!”

And then her eyes roll back and her body shakes with pleasure. Her milk spurts into the bucket, her fem-cum onto the floor, pulse after pulse after pulse.

Finally, she starts to relax.

You milk the last few drops from her breasts. The bucket is nearly full.

Her breasts are much smaller now, the shirt that could barely contain them before would now hardly need to stretch. But she doesn’t make any moves to clothe herself.

She flops backwards onto her ass, eyes hazy with the afterglow. She turns her gaze up to you and gives you an appreciative blink and a sigh.

You pick up the bucket and promise to see her tomorrow.

“W-whatever,” she says, but she doesn’t look mad about it.


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Part 2: On the Road, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 12: Six Hands High

Ada spent most of the next day talking to her new friends as they rode towards the shore. Missa and Sendia now openly fondled each other atop their horse. The group bounced question after question to each other, about lovers and life, about hobbies and habits, about preferences and predilections.

Ada found that she could talk openly about herself in every way. Not just sex, but worries. Hangups. Aspirations. These were all met with open warmth, for the first time.

Screw fairy godmothers coming to the rescue, Ada thought. I’ll take a mystical topless sex-positive sea kingdom, thank you very much.

That night, Ada sourced wood for the fire, roaming around the wood and gathering kindling, then helping to haul and chop up a dead log. It felt good to use her body, and even better to know that nobody was judging her. Or, well, at least not negatively. She caught Pasco’s appreciative gaze on her more than once. 

Once everything was prepared, Ada sat next to the fire, pleased to watch the flickering light of the fruits of her labor.

Missa came down next to her. “I saw you working hard. Arms and back must be awful sore. Want a back rub?”

Missa exuded feminine warmth. She was the curviest of the three women, with thick thighs and a cute tummy. Her brown hair was tucked behind her ears, her skin a deep tan. Her tattoos were twirling and delicate, like filigree, in rings all the way up her soft arms.

Yes,” Ada said. She melted into the woman’s touch. The others finished up and came to gather around the fire.

“Do you want… more than a back rub?” Missa asked. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

Ada considered this. Pasco sat across from her. “How does this work?” Ada asked him. She was quite enamored with him, and though she hardly felt like she needed his permission to do what she wanted, she did respect his feelings.

“Well,” he said, “I want you to be happy. I’m secure. You do what feels good… as long as you don’t mind me watching.”

That kindled her arousal something fierce, and made her glad that she’d asked. Knowing that he’d also take pleasure in what followed made it even better.

“Yes, Missa, I would indeed like more than a back rub.”

Missa cooed happily. “I want to see if I can make you a dragon, is that alright?” She started massaging Ada’s breasts, gently at first.

Little sparks of electric energy radiated from Ada’s nipples, which were becoming firm at Missa’s touch. “Yes, that is very… very alright…”

Missa moved one hand to Ada’s waist, then her stomach, then her inner thigh. Ada shivered and pressed back into Missa’s warm, soft breasts.

Missa’s hand slipped into Ada’s trousers, finding her labia with an intimate familiarity. Missa started a rhythm of stroking with her fingers. It was probably what Missa herself liked and it was different than Ada’s preferred style, but Ada liked the change, liked the novelty. She suspected it would be… very effective.

After some minutes, she peeked over at Pasco. She could see him throbbing through the thin fabric of his trousers. Touch yourself, she thought. She would have told him to, but she wanted him to do it because he couldn’t bear to not, more so than because she told him to.

Missa’s ministrations brought Ada back into her own body for a few more minutes. Missa’s hand was soaking wet from Ada and Ada arched back and ran her hands through Missa’s hair to draw out breathy gasps from the pirate woman.

Ada looked at Pasco again. Not just a glance this time. She locked eyes with him. She grinned and ran her tongue over the teeth of her open mouth. She imagined her dragon’s mouth around him, and she swore she saw the same image light up in his eyes.

He grinned begrudgingly. He withdrew himself from his trousers and started to stroke himself.

Missa slipped a finger inside to curl around to Ada’s spot.

 Ada was plenty warm and the sensation was intense and welcome. “Oh fuck…” Ada said. Pasco stroking himself, Missa’s pinch at her nipple, the pressure on her spot, fingers moving through her folds, “Fuck, I’m gonnaaaaaaa!~”

The transformation always felt like she was gasping in, in, in, pulling all of the heat and warmth and pleasure in the world into herself.

Ada barely managed to avoid snuffing the fire as she stumbled to her feet at the edge of camp. She towered over them, though Forte was nearly as tall as her shoulders. Her head was the size of Pasco’s torso. The pirates looked up at her with awe.

That sent a thrill through her. She purred and shook her head, iridescence flickering down her black scales. She spread her bat-like wings to show their shimmering translucent membranes as she settled to lounge at the edge of camp.

“You can touch,” she said to them. “If I say ‘red’, it means ‘stop for real’ and ‘back up because I might crush you’.”

Pasco chortled at that and came to stroke her face again. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, “and strong.”

“Careful,” she said, “the human might get jealous.” That was, perhaps, one of the sadder parts of being able to turn into a dragon. At times, she could feel terribly inadequate standing on just two feet.

Pasco shook his head. “All of you, all the time. Beautiful and strong.”

Ada felt a deep warmth, which was neither particular sexual, nor particularly non-sexual, that she didn’t quite know how to describe. It wasn’t the literal fire that she could breathe, either. It was like a warm hug inside of her. She’d never felt seen, like this, before. And it hadn’t even been a week. How might she feel, how might he know her, after moons or even years? Or might they burn fast and come to fade all too soon?

Missa had the most overt delight and was the first to come and touch. She petted Ada’s scales, then stroked the soft membranes of her wings.

“Ooh that— tickles but— feels really good.” 

Missa started to rub and massage what was the palm of Ada’s wing, the place where all the spokes came together, and that set Ada to quivering. Ada had never thought that might be an erotic area for a dragon, but she was learning all sorts of things from these eager pirates.

Pasco ran a hand down her neck and started towards her belly, and Sendia came up in front of her. The woman’s face was angular and cute, her body lithe and slender. She had no breasts and her body was straight and athletic, her blondish hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head. Sendia petted the dragon with glee. 

Ada nosed the bulge in her trousers. “I like to suck on something. May I?”

Sendia cupped Ada’s snout in her hands. “Yeah, I’d like that!” She undid her trousers and Ada greedily lapped at her growing shaft. Ada liked the idea of being fucked by someone so cute, just a bouncy, peppy little fuck, and she sunk into that thought as Pasco, Forte, and Teoda evaluated her draconic vulva.

Pasco was sharing what he’d learned so far, offering advice to the other two. Ada couldn’t make out much of what they were saying over the sound of her own slurping and Sendia’s squeaks.

Then it started. Six hands on her. No, eight! Missa had joined in too. The hands were between her labia. All around. Searching, stroking. The moaning started deep within her and made her body tremble.

“That feels so good,” were the last cohesive words she could form.

She had to hold still. This was a delicate thing, one wrong squirm and this could end badly. She groaned and dug her talons into the ground, withdrew from Sendia and snaked her head towards closest tree, biting it hard.

Missa broke away from the rest and came up to Ada’s head. She took Sendia’s hand and lead the other woman up to a rock that was right in the middle of Ada’s view. Missa settled back on the rock and pulled Sendia into her lap. One of Missa’s hands found Sendia’s shaft and the other her balls and ass, and Sendia melted back into Missa just as Ada had.

 Ada moaned into the tree trunk in her mouth, making the leaves atop it tremble and sending down a shower of seeds.

It was clear from Missa’s face that she got nearly as much pleasure out of this arrangement as Sendia did.

“Missa,” Sendia said, “Your hands are still s-so slippery f-from princess Ada…”

Missa growled devilishly, a surprisingly aggressive sound from the soft woman. “Ada, how would you like it if I made Sendia come all over your face, all with the slick from your own sex?”

A convulsion of pleasure rippled down Ada’s spine. She would like that very much. All she could do to reply was moan as her eyes rolled back.

Missa accurately interpreted this as a ‘Yes, please’ and diligently set to making Sendia come her little heart out.

Sendia’s moans raised and quickened. The other three pirates at Ada’s vulva found an effective rhythm. Ada’s whole body shook. It felt so good but it wasn’t… it wasn’t going to make her climax. She needed just another little push.

“Missa!” Sendia gasped, “You feel so good up there!” Missa had two fingers in Sendia’s ass. “You know if you do that, you’re gonna make me, you’ll make me—”

Sendia’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes rolled back, and she was the picture of bliss as she burst, her balls convulsing, sending a spray of warm cum over the tip of Ada’s snout.

That was exactly what Ada needed.

Ada tipped over the edge, clawing at the ground and spasming her own load of slick, clear fem-cum all over Pasco, Forte, and Teoda and the ground at her feet.

She ended up in the middle of that puddle, now dwarfed by it, when her breath finally stopped heaving.

But Ada wasn’t done. Head thick with the heady scent of herself, she playfully pounced onto Teoda and brought the woman down into the puddle. Teoda laughed and they wrestled lightly in the puddle, sliding past each other and brushing sensitive places, nipples and inner thighs. Teoda’s reddish-brown hair was cropped short, and she was more muscular than Missa, though still feminine.

Ada eventually ended up on top of the other woman. “What’s your thing?” Ada said. “What do you like?”

Teoda grinned. She looked at Forte. “Thick dicks.” He’d stripped off his slick-soaked trousers to show the endowment that was the subject of Teoda’s affection. Forte was taller and broader than Pasco and a bit lighter, his hair a warm auburn.

“Can I suck on your nipples while he fucks you?” Ada said.

“I’d like that,” Teoda said.

“Can he fuck me too a little bit?” Ada said.

“I’d like that,” Forte said.

Ada started eagerly sucking at Teoda’s tits while Forte lined up. Teoda lay on her back, with her hips up on Forte’s knees, and with all the slick around, Forte quickly figured out that he could pull Teoda up the ramp of his knees and onto his dick, fucking her over himself.

Ada bent over Teoda, sucking at a tit as Teoda slid by, back and forth, which had the effect of tugging her nipple up and down.

“Ooh, that’s a little much—” Teoda said. Ada moved with her more, lessening the tugging. “Ooh yeah… tight there…”

It had barely been a minute before Ada felt Pasco’s hands on her hips, sizing up her sex, which she was waving proud in the air.

“Pasco,” Ada said, “Don’t you dare stand there and not fuck me…”

And then he was inside of her.

And there was nothing else in the world.

He pulled her into a better position and off of Teoda and started fucking her in earnest.

“Hey!” Teoda complained, “Don’t steal my tit-sucker!”

“Sorry, not sorry,” Pasco said. Then, to Ada, “Fuck, you feel good.”

“So do youuuuu,” Ada cooed.

“Ah, too good,” Pasco said, and abruptly slowed. He took a few deep breaths and slid slowly in and out.

Ada shivered and purred.

“Where should I put my seed, love?” Pasco said.

Ada considered, then pulled away and turned around, kneeling in front of him. She took him up into her mouth and he moaned.

“I want a snack,” she said.

“It might be… more like a meal…” he panted. Ada sucked at him greedily, drawing him down into her throat and licking at him with her tongue, the down-scaled version of her earlier trick.

With her hands, she found his balls, his perineum, and teased out moans and gasps from them. Then, finally, she rubbed circles on his rim. He yelped.

“If you do that, you’ll make me— you’ll— fuck, fuck!

Again she squeezed him as she swallowed his cum, the suction teasing his tip and making him spurt harder. Finally he slowed, and she held him a moment before she gently released him and kissed the underside of his shaft.

She sat back on her heels and looked up at him, grinning, licking a dribble of cum from her lip.

He dropped down to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. They watched Forte and Teoda. Teoda was already moaning and spasming.

“Is she orgasming?” Ada said.

“Yeah,” Pasco said, “She has a lot of small ones. Like, dozens. Pretty different from yours, I wager.”

“Heh, yeah.” Ada said. “I think I’d get stuck in some weird half-dragon state if that happened to me.”

Pasco chuckled. “That doesn’t sound so nice. What’s happening here is Forte gets her right to that place and tries to hold them there as long as he can, but…”

Suddenly, Forte started growling. He pounded one, two, three more thrusts, then came to a stop fully hilted in Teoda, quivers running through his hips as he came in her.

“…It’s not easy,” Pasco finished.

Teoda sighed blissily, hugging Forte as he collapsed on top of her, his dick still inside of her.

Missa and Sendia wandered over too, and the party sat in a misty, blissy haze in the puddle Ada had made.

Some minutes later, Pasco said, “We should all go take a bath, huh.”

Cleaning up proved to be just as fun as getting dirty.

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