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The room was dark and very very warm and humid. In the gloom flesh could be seen moving, huge arcing curves of soft flesh that pressed and slipped against each other, unbelievably huge breasts each at least the size of a wooden carriage, the perfect blemish free massive softness of each breast capped with an engorged thigh-thick nipple. The nipples were stiff and reddened because each of them was enclosed in a glass nozzle that applied a powerful vacuum force, slurping on each one, gulping gallons of milk down and sending it through one of the many clear rubber tubes that passed through and intertwined the many breasts.
The near total dark of the room was filled with soft and gentle moaning, the female bodies attached to the enormous breasts lying messily over each other, on each other's breasts or bodies, legs entwining, fingers curled with their fellow girl's fingers, sometimes clutching harder as a shiver rolled up their bodies.
The expansive room was filled end to end with girls, their breasts filling every available space, spilling up against the walls, the corners, massive breasts lying over each other.
The nozzles continued to work as the cowkins were pumped and pumped of milk that just seemed to come without stop, their breasts always producing more, gradually overwhelming the nozzles' capacity.
Above this space filled end to end with moaning lazing cowkins was a catwalk. Upon the catwalk a number of oiled men walked, each of them with a long staff. On the end of each staff was a massive rubber horse cock.
A staff was lowered down and the cock pressed into the puffy pussy of a limp cowkin, her moans rising as she was penetrated, the man above thrusting the thing down, his biceps bulging as he stirred up the cowkin's cunny.
The man he had replaced gave him a relieved look, massaging his sore muscles as he stepped away for a break.
The staff plunged down, and with it dozens of other staffs, plunging dildos in and out of the insensate cowkins, sometimes two dildos to one pussy, anything to stimulate the cowkins further, make them produce more milk, better milk.
A cowkin with a comparatively reasonable chest size, although still with some canyon-like cleavage, strode across the catwalk, her high heels clicking on the steel.
"Stir the producers harder! Faster! put your backs into it! we are this close to forcing them to produce platinum grade milk!" said Bessy.
The pumping up and down of the staffs redoubled and the chorus of moaning cowkins grew louder, milk gushing into tubes, straining them wider.
She nodded in satisfaction, a small smile appearing as she looked over the scene from behind her red spectacles. She then turned and strode back to her office, clipboard in arm.
Down below a teddy bear made its way up the slope of a massive breast before sliding down the other side, bouncing off a nipple before he came to a stop in front of a certain cowkin.
The cowkin looked down blearily at the bear, the constant haze of milky pressure and pleasure lifting for once.
The bear coughed politely into its paw and lifted up a sheet of paper.
Melly's eyes darted back and forth as she read, brow rising as the spell broke and she became fully alert.
Her grip tightened around her friend's hand and the owner of the hand she held turned to see her.
"Wh-what is it?" said Taylor.
"It's from Lily, she says Fey's in trouble, she needs us."
"We're in trouble Melly! This feels too good, I just want to lie like this forever! I can't think!"
"You want to lie here while Fey is lost forever?"
Taylor wiped at her eyes. "Wait what?"
Melly began struggling, standing atop the breasts she was lying across, her feet sinking into its softness.
"I know you lot have something left in you other than getting milked and fucked silly all day everyday!"
A soft grumble went up from the milky cowkins, someone muttered for her to shut up.
"You want to lie here as our breeder is imprisoned by a Dragon? Fey is in danger and we might never see her again, she might never mate with us again, we might never feel that joy again! Real actual sex! True breeding!"
There was a collective pause, and then the cowkins began shouting, struggling, their voices forming a collective roar as they struggled against each other.
Feet pressed down on breasts as the cowkins rose and… sometimes rubber hoses. The cowkins howled as glass milking nozzles were ripped from their nipples and milk gushed freely into the vast room.
Panic took hold and a struggle, more nozzles came free. The milk started to rise, breasts floating on the liquid as it reached five foot, then higher, the room filling.
A door slammed open with a slosh of milk on the catwalk and Bessy looked on in fury at the lake of milk atop which floated flailing cowkins, their breasts spraying in every direction.
Her anger turned to fear however as with a terrible crack the walls started to give.
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