Captured by the Count: An Abduction and Breeding Fantasy by Carolyn Faulkner Page B

was the fact that all of the women in the room were naked, as she was, and on all fours on tables that were narrower at the head end and much wider at the other.  The unoccupied tables were ab out two feet off the ground, but the ones that were in use were more like four feet high.  A ll of the women were wearing collars and cuffs just as she was – although not of such obviously fine materials - that were attached to the four corners of the tables, so that not only could she not move an inch, but she was also forced to spread her legs very wide in order to accommodate the expanse of the foot end of the table .  Their leashes were tied high up on a pole that was attached to the table above her, forcing them to keep their head s craned up at what looked to Cassie to be an awkward angle .
    There were older, stout women dressed like matrons – none of whom she knew – that roamed the floor like supervisors, providing motivation here or scolding there.  It was always the women she scolded for not producing enough or producing quickly enough, and the men to whom she gave gentle suggestions of some sort.  Each of the women had a man standing at the en d of her table, and then one to either side of her, and it wasn’t until Jurek was already patting an open table that Cassie realized exactly what was going on here.
    These women were being milked, like cows in a dairy.  Some of them looked as tired as she did, as if they might well have given birth not long ago, but others were quite trim and had relatively flat bellies, which told her that it had probably been some time since they had given birth.  Then how was it that they were still producing milk, if no one else in this God forsaken place got to keep her baby, either . . .
    Not only were they being robbed of the milk that was meant for their babies, but they were also being alternately punished and pleasured.  A third sound filled the room, if one listened: the sounds of either panting, aroused females or panting, crying ones, depending on what the person who was attending their nether parts thought she needed at the moment.
    But Cassie wasn’t given any time to work out the details , though .  When she failed to get into the proper position on the table, Jurek whipped out a stiff leather tawse and went to work on her behind until she had complied with his wishes, stopping once she had then whispering frighteningly, “Don’t think that that’s the end of this.  You need to be milked, but I will take this up again with you later.”
    Her bottom throbbing terribly, and having been disciplined in front of what Cassie was quite sure was an all too eager audience, Cassie shivered in anticipation of what was ahead.
    Jurek reached down and used a crank to raise the height of the table for the convenience of the milkers, then attached her lead at least two notches higher than any other woman in the room, forcing Cassie to crane her neck painfully high, not allowing her to look anywhere but at the ceiling, so she wouldn’t be able to see an ything of what was being done to the rest of her body.  Then he motioned to her ever present guards, who were only too happy to assist.  One came around one side of the table, and the other around the other, standing just to the sides of her breasts, their big meaty fists on the table while Jurek positioned himself at her other end, right where he preferred to be.
    The sounds of the babies – and probably, she was terribly ashamed to admit also the sounds of the other women being milked and either punished or pleasured – had her milk already flowing.  She was spraying into the pail without the men having to touch her, not that that deterred them in the least.  Each of them grasped a nipple and squeezed it while tugging downwards, which hurt terribly with each motion, yet felt good on another level as the pressure and ache within her too full breasts was relieved.
    But before Jurek reached his hand between those lovely parted