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The Milk Barn 3: Sasha The Cow (Medical Lactation Erotica)

The Milk Barn 3: Sasha The Cow (Medical Lactation Erotica)

by Claire Linden

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  • ISBN 9781497759282
  • English
  • 4774 Words

The Milk Barn 3: Sasha The Cow (Medical Lactation Erotica)

by Claire Linden

Sasha's always been dissatisfied with the size of her breasts, and when she sees Greg's personal ad, she knows it's too good to be true. She can't help but reply anyway, and ends up finding out that sometimes dreams do come true - even when those dreams involve lactation and being used as a human cow!


Warning! This adults only story contains 4,500 words of medical kink, lactation, straight and lesbian milk drinking scenes, breast expansion, sex on an examination table, milking machines, some light bondage and a whole stable full of human cows!




“My god,” Sasha said, softly, standing in the doorway of the massive barn and stopping short. Greg stood just behind her, a hand on the small of her back.

“We just remodeled,” he said, almost apologetic. “We just didn’t have the space for individual rooms anymore.”

Stretching out in front of them, almost as far as the eye could see, were two lines of women – all with improbably large breasts, all hooked up to milking machines. Some of them were strapped down by their wrists and ankles, while others seemed to be free other than a collar around their necks with a big rectangular cowbell hanging from it.

Quite a few were pleasuring themselves, and nearly all were moaning, looking caught up in blissful pleasure as the machines worked, rhythmically pumping away to draw the milk from their engorged breasts. There were dozens of them, possibly hundreds, of all shapes, colors and sizes.

Greg pushed at her lightly, urging her to step forward, so Sasha entered the building, and allowed him to guide her further in. She stared, eyes wide, hardly able to believe the sight before her. No matter how many times she’d fantasized about something like this, she never thought she would see so many women being milked in person. The sound and smell of the place was overwhelming, too, arousal hanging heavy in the air while women screamed and moaned in pleasure. One particularly enthusiastic woman with a cowbell around her neck seemed to be lowing like a cow, her eyes shut in bliss.

“Would you like a sample?” Greg asked, with a cheeky grin.

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