Ship of Remorse

Two stanchions, similar to the poles in 3 stall, had been erected. After a time the screen shows Nurse Inga leading us to them, pulling downward until we kneel and then untying the ropes. As Nurse Inga attaches our yokes to the stanchions, one camera zooms in on my face to show a close up of my nose ring. Its gauge is heavy, about half the thickness of a pencil, and is three inches in diameter, hanging almost to my chin.

The camera zooms back then the scene shifts as spliced into the video is a different angle. This is from the rear and obscenely displays our buttocks. A command is heard from Nurse Inga. I spread my knees in response to show to the camera my sphincter and more prominently my labia, reddened for the benefit of the viewer by Nurse Katrina’s rubber slapper.

“You must tell me how your genitalia came to be so nicely colored,” comments Ms. Powers. “Such wonderful contrast, the bright red lips against the black and white.”

She is most correct. The Prince certainly got his money’s worth. For into the scene come two hands to further separate my cheeks. My clitoris peeks out as a result. Ms. Powers laughs.

“I am told by the hotel clerk that this video is quite rare and expensive and I can see why. Girls rarely allow themselves to be so exhibited.”

I become flushed as I watch the same hands caress my labia and toy until a notable degree of moisture forms. The close up is extreme. In response to watching, I rock my hips recalling the strangely enjoyable sensation of being half masturbated under the bright lights, before the guests and with cameras rolling.

The angle returns to the front view. Nurse Inga places the stainless steel pail under Maria. Amazingly, her nipples, slapped repeated just minutes before, begin to harden. It is a Pavlov-like response to the pail and Nurse Inga’s proximity. Maria’s glands react to the mere prospect of being milked. Days of liquid await the dexterous fingers of the costumed farm girl. I can hear the guests of Dr. Helga laughing in the background as the nipples erect to the size of small penises.

But Nurse Inga just stands and playfully twists Maria’s ear.

“Would you like to give some milk?” her accented voice suggests to Maria, the script calling for simple and easily translated dialog.

Incredibly, the lens moves in to see Maria’s untouched breasts begin to lactate. Again the unseen audience laughs, this time with Nurse Inga joining them.

After another pause the recognizable soft but firm hands I grew to covet move into view. They grasp Maria’s nipples, hanging down toward the bucket, like cow’s udders. With the first delicate squeeze and draw an impressive squirt of white splashes to the bottom of the bucket.

“Quite a girl, that one. You had some interesting friends, Alexi.”

Ms. Powers chuckles with her understatement. I nod in agreement. I had seen Maria milked so many times I had forgotten about the abundance of her flow.

Nurse Inga’s hands begin to work up and down. With each motion a spurt is sent into the pail. Very light sighs can be heard from Maria. The relief is most soothing and on occasion the camera view changes to the rear to display Maria’s widely spread thighs and the evidence of her excitement streaming down her thighs.

I envision the Prince viewing the video with some subservient and naked young female fellating him to ecstasy. Marvin’s cinematography is of high quality. Maria appears to be ever so much like a human cow, without doubt piquing the Prince’s odd proclivity.

After many minutes, Nurse Inga pushes the half full bucket under my mammary glands. They are already dripping. In listening to Maria’s essence being extracted my nipples likewise respond in a Pavlov-like manner.

Nurse Inga begins to milk me. The camera zooms in on my face.

“This is what concerns me, Alexi. Look at your face. The expression of complete gratification as the farm girl humiliates you before the camera. You’re naked and painted to look like an animal, yet you are enjoying it.”

As with Maria, a rear spread shot flashes to the screen. I am even wetter then my cohort cowgirl, my arousal having had more time to develop while Maria’s essence emptied into the bucket.

“You did not tell me about such experiences. I did not realize your need for submission and abject humiliation was so strong. I could have been much more accommodating over the past few months...

“But it is not too late. I have reconsidered my plans for you. The imagination can be fascinatingly unlimited and in manifesting fantasies the Fatipton Estate won’t run out of money, I assure you.”

We continue to watch the antics in silence.

Nurse Inga’s hands fall into a continuous rhythm, which the accomplished milker knows is important in maximizing the ultimate quantity of extraction. Since my nipples have stretched remarkably and Nurse Inga’s hands are small, she can grip them with her fists and manipulate her fingers to provide the initial squeeze and downward pressure. The tips of my nipples peek out the bottom of her hands and are aimed at the pail. Thus, an ongoing rippling of her closed fingers causes a cadence of splashes to be heard and camera c

lose ups show the spurts gushing into the half filled bucket. Occasionally she pulls downward, enhancing the circulation to my glands. I realize now that she is an extraordinarily accomplished milker of young females and Marvin has done well in exhibiting her skills.

My flow rate was never as large as Maria’s, but I could amuse Dr. Helga’s guests for lengthy sessions, particularly with someone as skilled as Nurse Inga. And so the video becomes notably repetitive as Nurse Inga works my breasts and my comparatively lesser flow does not seem to diminish.

I imagine the Prince to be most impressed and wonder indeed if the time required to drain my essence could be compared to that required of a cow.

Finally, the spurts lessen and Nurse Inga slows the rhythm accordingly. Aboard ‘The Scarlet Letter’, the ‘cowgirls’ were most professionally milked, with great care taken to ensure that the breasts were completely drained. This promoted even more flow and as I watch Nurse Inga work I accordingly give up my very last drop. I wish the maids at the Fatipton Estate were so attentive.

The camera moves back as Nurse Inga releases our yokes, retrieves the ropes and threads them through our nose rings. Carrying the milk pail in one hand and pulling the two ropes with the other, the camera follows her as she leaves the set. Cheering guests can be heard in the background.

Ms. Powers turns off the video. She is wearing a smile but there is devious thought behind it.

“On the table please, Alexi.”