Page 18 of The Hornet’s Hucow Pet

I keep her here as long as I can, even as I watch her breasts reach their full size. Normally, milking would begin as soon as possible, but she’s found an equilibrium here. She deserves to rest.

Nova stares blankly ahead, pupils blown wide, every exhale a quiet moan.

“This is one hell of a drug,” she murmurs, lashes fluttering. “How bad is the come-down going to be?”

“Bad.” I trace her cheek with my fingers. “But I’ll be with you the whole time. I’ll ease it as much as possible.”

A sharper, pre-orgasmic pleasure flickers at Nova’s core, tempting her toward desperation. She forces another deep breath. I join her, helping her relax on the long exhale.

Wetness blossoms along the remaining bands of silk where they cross her nipples. Her eyes roll back, and she moans, but my consciousness anchors here in this steady place for a moment longer.

“The next part is going to be very intense,” I tell her. “But you can take it. You can take it for me, can’t you?”

Her lashes flutter, pupils blowing wider, until only the slightest rim of blue remains. “Y-yes, doctor…”

I tilt my head. Curious, I tug gently on that thread, and her consciousness gladly yields to me. Beyond words, an understanding of her needs settles over me. I do this with patients fairly often, but I’ve never uncovered a need like this.

My hand on her cheek shifts to grip her chin firmly.

Nova gasps, then sinks deeper into relaxation.

“Listen very carefully, Nova.” My voice is firm, but not unkind. “I can make you feel better. But only if you do precisely as I say. Can you do that for me?”

She moans, then nods against my grip. “Yes, doctor… Anything…”

“I’m going to drain you soon. But you are absolutely forbidden from orgasm until I command it. Do you understand?”

The most intoxicating change ripples through Nova. It’s as if a magnetic pull has grasped her cells, organizing them all in the same direction, all toward the same end.

Her desperation becomes her prize. Every excruciating moment without release is proof of her good work.

My hands shake, fingers digging deeper into Nova’s skin, and she yields even more sweetly.

“Oh, Nova,” I breathe over her ear, “what are you doing to me?”

The most luxuriant moan yet spills from her lips, entire body quivering with eager pleasure. Milk drips through the silk, puddling on the floor.

Her lip trembles. “Will you milk me yet?” Not a request—a question.

My voice dips low and dark. “I’ll milk you when I please. You’ll wait as long as I say.”

Her breath catches, shaking with bliss. “I’m so full it hurts…”

“Then you’ll hurt for me, won’t you, sweet Nova?”

With one last quivering sigh, her body sinks into total relaxation. Every exhale sends another dribble of milk from her breasts. The poor thing is so wary of false promises that the only assurance she can truly take on board is that at least her pain is for a reason. At least her endurance will earn her praise and love and care.

I take a moment to admire my gorgeous prize. Her thighs and hips and stomach have all swollen along with her breasts, and I want to sink my hands and teeth into every inch of her. Where before her pale eyes and hair made her seem almost a ghost on this plane, now her eyes are wide and dark, her body grounded and present.

I pull away the last strands of silk from her breasts, and she gasps as the pressure releases from her nipples, allowing her to drip freely.

Normally, lingering so long in this state would be excruciating for a hucow. But Nova’s relationship to sensation is different. She’s long since become accustomed to agony. Here instead is a chance to become accustomed to exquisite, torturous pleasure.

With a feather touch, I press my fingertips over one of her throbbing nipples. Hot milk pours into my hand.

I tip her head up so she can watch with unfocused eyes as I lick her milk from my palm. Fuck, it’s incredible. I’ve never tasted anything this creamy, this refreshingly sweet. There truly is no substitute for fresh milk.

The professional thing would be to use a milking machine.