Milk of Human Kindness, a "Fallout" short (Patreon)

The fiery red hair was the only splash of colour in the small, warm chamber, at times a blur as the head bobbed hurriedly up and down between my thighs, that cunning, experienced mouth that knew me so well having me hold onto the worn armrests for dear life.

              A faint shaft of withering sunlight provided the only lighting inside the shack, which itself was nestled among a shanty scrapheap of uninhabited hovels and shelters, something that had sprung up post-war and since abandoned.

              Dawn had finished warming up, having successfully employed her lips and dextrous tongue to coax me to full hardness, and she was now attacking me with the tight walls of her expert throat, giving me no relent as her warm canal massaged my meat.

              My fingers gripped the partially cracked wood orbs atop the ends of each armrest painfully tight while my toes curled, my breath coming out rapid and ragged as my head rolled back, eyes squeezing shut. She knew me too well; it took her all but half a minute to make me moan loudly, having to remind myself to keep it down in the event that we weren’t as alone in this place as we thought.

              Dawn came up for air, not a tear yet poking itself out of the corners of perfect, blue eyes that looked up at me reverentially. She was far too good at the art of throating, something she had been taught back in the day as a captive, a skill she adored to employ even now.

              “What did I say, two days since last time?” she asked as she cleared her throat, a spit-soaked hand sliding up and down my shaft, keeping me interested, then leaned in to flick her tongue across my glans, the feeling making me gasp.

              “Yeah,” I groaned through gritted teeth. Two days since my previous orgasm. As Dawn had suspected, I was starting to feel the pressure in my balls become uncomfortably insistent.

              “About time, then.” She winked at me and once again impaled herself on me, easily sliding my full length down her gullet until her cute nose pressed against my lower abdomen.

              It wasn’t always easy, or even possible, to tend to my rather unique physical trait on the road, away from the safety of our secure village, but bless her, Dawn was seeing to that I got the release I needed before it got too bad.

              There were many a malady or deformity any Vault Dweller might accrue when exposed to the irradiated wasteland, but as far as we knew – and we had asked around any physicians of even mediocre repute if they had heard of it before – I was the only one whose irradiated physiology had cursed me with an overactive sperm production.

              It seemed to never run out, and the constant build-up would get significantly painful within three days unless I indulged in at least a single emptying of my sack.

              It had been two days now since we had left the blasted ruins of the Capital Wasteland to return to the Commonwealth, and since the beginning of our journey we hadn’t found anywhere to rest where we felt completely safe to camp without setting a watch. Until tonight.

              Our path had been beset by raider patrols, Brotherhood skirmishers and various irradiated fauna all too happy to tear an unprepared traveller to gory strips given the chance.

              This place had seemed safe even at a distance; a small, empty commune atop a solitary hill around which no fresh tracks disturbed the sand and dust covering the stony landscape. After a thorough scanning both around the hamlet’s perimeter as well as clearing the six buildings themselves, satisfied that nobody or nothing was around, we had chosen the less dirty of the dwellings to house us for the night.

              And Dawn had wasted no time seeing to my condition once our packs rested on the partially rotted wooden floor.

              She was so beautiful with her chin-length red tresses freed from their tie, her sweaty cleavage stained with a few dark smudges from our travels, her light leather pants and cropped top a much more feminine look on her without the various pads and straps of hardened leather armour.

              Dawn wasn’t being gentle the way she threw her head against me, her eager throating remining my body that it had been a long time since last I’d had an opportunity to release my product, and the feel and sight of her between my legs spurred my dominant side.

              Grabbing her by the back of her head with both hands, delighting in the surprised squeal that shot vibrations down my length inside her mouth, I forcibly moved her up and down, knowing she got off on being my plaything and knowing she could not only take the rough treatment, she revelled in it.

              Grunting, trying to keep the volume down, it didn’t take many strokes of her tight, hot throat to make me rise towards eruption, and before I knew it my hips were bucking along, pushing forward when my hands pulled her head down.

              She was tearing up now, the droplets from her eyes rolling down to mix with the saliva and drool on her chin, the submissive look of her blue eyes before they started rolling back into her head spurring me on to be even rougher.

              Gritting my teeth, eyes clenching, I strained not to scream as I came, my thick member pulsing all the way down Dawn’s gullet, spewing my pent-up load directly into her stomach. The potent orgasm had my head spinning as I held hers fast against me, and only when Dawn’s hands urgently slapped my thighs several seconds later did I manage to unclench my grip and let her surface.

              Gasping, she giggled in coughing fits as she covered her mouth with one hand, the other holding my slobber-coated shaft.

              “Easy there, big fella,” she grinned, clearing her throat. “I know it has been a while but I still need my air.”

              “That concludes the warmup” I purred with sensual menace, before seizing her by her shoulders and forcing her down on her back as I settled on my knees between her perfect, shapely thighs, maintained by all the walking and climbing on uneven terrain. I unbuttoned the pants and hooked my fingers over the hem, pulling them off of her as I stared lustily at her sapphire eyes.

              “Then I’ll have to make sure to milk you dry.” She bit her lip expectantly, lifting her pelvis to help me slide the tight pants down her well-formed ass. “Who knows when next we’ll get the chance.”

None of us had noticed the great eye peering at us through a narrow slit in the shanty wall behind me.

The following morning, we awoke well-rested, my balls empty and Dawn’s hair dishevelled. After trying our best to enjoy our breakfast of stale and tasteless pre-war rations jazzed up with fresh-grown razorcorn from the Capital Wasteland, we gathered up our belongings and exited the shanty door, momentarily blinded by the golden brilliance of the sunrise. The morning heat was but a prelude to the warmth promised by the clear skies, the sun preparing to bake the already dry and lifeless landscape that stretched on for as far as the eye could see.

              Satisfied that our scouting of the small hamlet the previous night had determined nobody had been around for at least several weeks, our collective guard was somewhat relaxed as we crossed the threshold into the dry hotness of the morning, but weapons were still in hand with rounds chambered.

              Unfortunately for us, in our state of lax vigilance and the phenomenal feeling of a full night’s rest, we did not notice the big footprints in the dirt around our shack. The bright light of morning was banished from my eyes as though the sun had gone out by an impossible eclipse, though just before I passed out, I barely had time to feel the pressure of the might blow to the back of my head.

Consciousness dribbled slowly into me, as though my head was the bottom of an hourglass that received a steady, if painfully leisurely dribble of sensory impressions from the outside. I felt sluggish and queasy, like that time I had been forced to inject myself with a super stimpak to stay in the fight, forcing upon me side effects that inflicted sensations upon me much like what a withering plant must feel. If plants could barf.

              Fighting the urge to hurl, not understanding why my head hurt nor why my body jostled like a rag hung across a string on a windy afternoon, it took me a long time to manage to open my eyes, and longer still for my brain to make sense of what my eyes were trying to process. A thudding, scraping sound filled my ears with dreadful regularity, the somehow faraway noises akin to wrenches in my ears.

              I lay doubled over on something hard, bobbing up and down, my nose at length realizing that unpleasant odour I was smelling was a blend of sweat and some sort of grime. It made my face bunch up as I grimaced, fighting to slot together the pieces of the world my head wasn’t quite sure how to process.

              After many more groggy seconds of disoriented confusion, enough power had returned to my brain to finally be able to make sense of my surroundings.

              It was dark, my surroundings possessing an oily sort of stench. Rusted metal walls and floors were streaked with grunge and decades of dust, cracks along their surfaces keeping the tales of their scars untold. The scent and the general appearance of the metalwork brought to mind facilities predating the great firestorm that had scorched the earth some two centuries ago.

              With some perplexity I realized I was quite a bit higher than the level of floor, upon which debris was strewn. Once the realization hit home that I was somehow at least two meters in the air, I jolted in sudden panic, letting out an entirely unmanly squeal of confused fright, not comprehending how this was possible.

              My jerking reaction felt all wrong, adding to my mounting anxiety. For whatever reason my limbs were not doing what I was telling them to do.

              “QUIET!” a gruff voice close to me commanded, and I yelped again at the sudden shout so close to my ear.

              Finally fully aware of myself and my surroundings like my entire body had been splashed with icy water, I felt the coarse rope strangling my wrists behind my back, and what I assumed was more rope cinching tightly around my ankles. With wide eyes and a sudden increase in heartbeat, I looked down, and grasped that I lay draped over a Super Mutant.

              With a thundering heartbeat I realized the hard surface I hung over like a sack of tatoes was the massive shoulder of an orange-skinned behemoth, whose equally massive hand pressed down on my back against the shoulder, keeping me pinned while the restraints prevented resisting.

              I had tangled with Super Mutants before but had never before been captured by one, and if what I had come across in my years traversing the wastes were any indication, I didn’t much want to be one of their captives.

              And where was Dawn?

              Acting on desperation as opposed to sense, I squirmed, attempting to break free as my heart thundered in my ears, but my meagre efforts were to no avail. The rope was tied tightly, and the hand clamping me against the shoulder increased its pressure to keep me in place, making it harder to breathe as my stomach contorted over the bone of the mutant’s shoulder.

              “STOP THAT!” my captor demanded, the other humongous hand swinging up in front of me to grab me painfully hard by my hair.

              I wanted to struggle on but the big hands and the ropes kept me in place. Besides, I hadn’t given thought to what would happen if I actually succeeded in breaking free. I’d fall face first to the ground, and given the elevation that could end badly.

              Turning a corner, I was taken into a small chamber, and I barely had time to register broken bits of rebar and steel girders and drooping cables before I was unceremoniously and indelicately dropped to the ground. I groaned when I impacted the cold steel decking on my chest and belly, and it took me a moment to regain the air that was knocked out of me before I managed to roll over onto my side, coughing from the violent dismount and the ancient dust it kicked up.

              Looking up at the hulking brute that had so callously dumped me at its feet, my eyes widened even more, my mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief.

              The Super Mutant was female.

              I had never before encountered a Super Mutant that did not appear like an asexual brute, all brawns and hardly any brains. This one – despite the rippling musculature and enormous stature – was quite clearly female. The bulging physique was laid atop an hourglass frame of wide hips, thick thighs and enormous chest, the Forced Evolutionary Virus – simply referred to as FEV – enhancing this woman’s once human traits to ludicrous levels and somehow preserving her femininity.

              In fact, I couldn’t understand how I had not noticed her humongous tits from my perch on her shoulder. While I had been quite out of it when I woke, one would have thought I would have noticed them jostling right underneath my head.

              Come to think of it, while the voice remained gravelly and borderline unpleasant to listen to, it had a definitive female timbre, also quite different to other Super Mutants I had encountered.

              The mutant stared down at me with cold, blue eyes, the gaze laced with the nigh undefinable FEV quality that proved you weren’t seeing the eyes of an actual human. She had long, thick and wavy red tresses that brushed against the tops of her swollen shoulders, her orangey complexion oddly smooth and fair compared to a Super Mutant’s commonly rough and scarred skin. The left side of her head was completely hairless, and the lack of red stubble on the skin made me think it simply didn’t grow there as opposed to having been shaved.

              Like all Super Mutants she was massive, her mere presence intimidating, no less so from my supine position. Not only in physique but in height, and I judged her to be just shy of two and a half meters. If I stood upright, I didn’t think the top of my head would make it to her armpit. As things were, lying on my side in front of her, she seemed absolutely beastly, a mountain looming high above about to crush me.

              She was clad neck to toe in black leather and bespoke metal platies that would protect her from a variety of hazards in the wasteland, but how she managed to contain her massive breasts inside a thin veneer of dirty cloth was something quite fascinating. Given their size and quite obvious weight it was nigh miraculous that the top hadn’t torn open when it was pulled down over her melons. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I used both arms, I could possibly manage to encircle only one of her huge tits.

              Her full lips twitched only once before she spoke. “STAY STILL! BE QUIET!”

              “Spoke” was a simplification of events. Every word out of her mouth was like an angry bellow.

              She turned on her heel and left the way we had come, her heavy footfalls sending tremors through the metal floor into my prostrate body. Through my befuddlement I still managed to focus on the sculpted ass stretching the fabric of her bespoke pants to its limit, the width of her thighs not helping matters.

              Despite her warning I immediately set about fighting the rope, my mind racing with possible scenarios. It wasn’t my first time being captured, unfortunately. In fact, I had lost count on just how many times I’d found myself in the clutches of some group or other – curiously enough they were always all-female – since my first incarceration with a nefarious group of raider slavers where I had first met Dawn. So as things were, I was a quite experienced captive.

              This did not yield immediate aid to my present situation as I tried to wiggle my way out of the bonds. The white cords were thick and wound tightly, and no matter how I tried stepping my ankles out of the loop or wrench my wrists free, the only thing I managed was to make the rope rub my skin raw.

              Huffing with effort, I looked around the room, trying to see if there was anything I could use. The floor was uncharacteristically tidy and neat for what I assumed was yet another pre-war ruin. Based on the lack of windows here and in the hallway we had taken to get here, I wouldn’t be altogether surprised to learn that we were underground. The walls and ceiling, comprised of metal sheets, were rusted and worn, cracks and fractures in some places so numerous and big that I could likely pick them apart with my fingertips.

              It seemed whatever had been in this room previously – a few rusty broken cabinets and furniture of some sort – had been swept against the far wall, right of the open double doors we had entered, together with the dust and dirt that would have blanketed the room. Sprouting from the floor in the middle of the chamber was a steel girder, reaching up towards the rest of it which lowered from the ceiling through a wide hole. It seemed some great force had at some point bent the beam until it broke, and a not insignificant piece of what would be the girder’s middle was missing. Standing as it did, bent at a slight angle, I reckoned it was about as high as I was, and that I could possibly manage to touch the bottom of its elevated twin if I jumped.

              A strange collection of metal arms, axles, wires and pivoting joints were folded neatly, deliberately high up against the ceiling next to the big hole, the wires along the folded lengths connected to a computer terminal mounted so high on the wall I would have to stand on my toes and reach up over my head to operate it. Finally, at the end of the odd assembly of folded arms and joints was a sort of glass cylinder from which two thick black rubber cables dangled almost all the way down to the floor.

              Unlike the rest of the somewhat small room, the metal arms, the cylinder and the computer appeared pristine, clean, quite at odds with the marred and filthy structure with bits of rusty, broken rebar puncturing through the ceiling and walls.

              The room was only illuminated by a shaft of strong midday sun pouring in through the sizable hole in the ceiling, and looking up I could see the broken bit of girder reaching up through two more stories above. The sun was not directly in the opening but somewhere to the side, and I noticed cracked mirrors had been placed around the top rim on the roof to help guide the brightness down into this chamber.

              With a grunt of frustration, I realized there wasn’t anything within reach I could use to help free myself. The brightest idea seemed to be to cut the ropes on the jagged top of the broken girder, but I had to alter my pose if that was to be at all doable.

              I straightened on the floor, then tucked my knees against my chest and rolled over across my back, using the momentum to get me up on my knees and face. As I prepared to thread my legs through my arms to get them in front of me, I heard thumping footsteps approach, and even before the shadow of the mutant fell over me, she spoke in a voice indicative of displeasure.

“STAY STILL BOY!”

              The Super Mutant grabbed me hard and painful by the hair and my belt, the mighty arms hoisting me up with all the bother of picking a teddy bear from the floor. She pushed me against the bent girder, holding me in place by my throat, tightly enough that I had to fight to breathe but not enough to suffocate. The mutant leered at me as she scowled, towering over me, and I felt my heart skip a beat when she leaned closer, the big face and angry eyes taking up my full field of view.

              “DON’T BE CLEVER HUMAN!” she growled, the tone of voice so loud it made me wince to be so close. “YOU WILL REGRET IT!”

              My fearful eyes caught view of something she had brought in with her, a metal rod on a square wheeled base from which hung two sizable glass buckets or containers with metal lids on either side of the rod. One seemed to be empty, the other had some sort of clear liquid in it.

              Snapping my gaze eyes back to her, trying as best I could to nod, tears poked the corners of my eyes as I pulled desperate gasps of air.

              “Don’t strangle him, Uda,” a similarly gruff and loud female voice somewhere behind my captor spoke, but this one sounded more controlled, more eloquent

              “HE TRIED TO ESCAPE!” Uda complained.

              “He has nowhere to escape to. Even if he made it to the door he wouldn’t get far. Now, release him.”

              Despite the calmer quality to the growly voice there was no mistaking the authority in her words, something Uda seemed to appreciate as she removed her hand from my gullet and straightened, allowing me to sag against the girder as I took a much-needed full gulp of air.

              “HA HA UDA IN TROUBLE NOW!” a third voice rang in the room somewhere behind Uda, in the direction of the door, the gravelly tone of it similar to Uda’s, yet undeniably female. I couldn’t see anything past Uda’s big frame.

              “Nobody is in trouble, I just don’t want him harmed. Now, let’s get to work.”

              As Uda turned away from me and I straightened after half a dozen unhindered inhalations, my eyes, having already seen something unbelievable once today, saw two additional impossibilities.

              Two more Super Mutans, each one clearly female of physique and form, wearing more scavenged and adjusted cloth and leather, belts and bandoliers squeezing their bulky frames.

               The one who was a little taller than the other two – big even among giantesses – wore a green leather cap of sorts with big goggles squeezed around her head, under which short locks of lilac hair curled out into the light from above. Massive tits pressed together by a leather top with metal plates affixed to the front looked ready to break apart at the weld lines, the bottom edge high enough up on her chest that her entire orange midriff was visible.

              Tight pants helpless to obscure the ridges and dells of the muscles in her thighs was held up by a strangely clean and whole belt, and they terminated into dark leather boots she had obviously made herself.

              Next to her the third mutant stood holding a great olive drab metal trunk, her big arms pushing her huge bosom together that was barely held by a tattered grey shirt bereft of protective qualities. Ammo bandoliers hung over her shoulders like the straps of a backpack, and like the others her dusty dark pants looked ready to burst once she flexed any of her sizable leg muscles.

              She had a spiked collar around her neck, and brown hair growing only at the centre of her head, swept back over her scalp, reaching almost down to the collar.

              Despite their brutish appearances, the FEV had somehow not twisted any of their faces into the disturbing countenances usually seen in their kind, faces that were neither male nor female, and definitely not nice to look upon. I had never before envisioned female Super Mutants, nor had I envisioned that such faces could be so pleasant to look at – despite the hard quality to their eyes.

              As Uda moved out of the way, the mohawked mutant set the trunk down near to the front of the girder I leaned against, the weight more than evident by the heavy thud. The three of them stood in a semi-circle before me, a trio of radio masts before a sickly tree.

              The one with the green cap and the purple hair spoke, revealing she was the one whose voice seemed more in control, more intelligent. “Take off his clothes.”

              Without hesitation the mutant with the spiked collar pulled a wicked machete from sheathe on her back, and I recoiled at the glint on the rusty surface as she brought it towards me. I tried moving back, although I was already up against the girder with my feet tied together.

              “Carefully now, like we practiced.”

              “YES BOSS LIKE WE PRACTICED!” the collared mutant agreed, taking hold of the neckline of my shirt and pulling it towards her, stretching the fabric. With mounting anxiety I saw the blade come down, and with a surprisingly accurate slash, using just the tip, the machete sliced through it from collar to hem. Additional obviously rehearsed cuts opened up my sleeves, and then she tugged at the shirt’s remains to pull it off me, baring my upper body.

              I was about to protest with growing dread when she wiggled her fingers into the hem of my pants with the machete’s tip in hot pursuit, but I froze in place as though subconsciously trying to help her lest she cut something I didn’t want her to. With deliberate and strong cuts, she had my pants off in short order, leaving me naked except for my boots.

              The Super Mutant straightened as she held her machete down along her leg, a scowl of confusion twisting her face in a somewhat exaggerated manner compared to what a human would look.

              “IT’S TINY!” she criticised loudly, and I realized she was talking about my cock.

              The purple-haired mutant in the centre seemed to take a calming breath. “We’ve talked about this, Grin, it will grow.” She looked at the collared one she called Grin with a reproaching expression. “Now, off with his boots.”

              Grin grumbled something I couldn’t make out as she knelt, her forehead brushing against my “tiny” member as she cut the rope binding my feet to let her pull the boots off. Uda, who stood with her arms folded and a permanent scowl next to the more eloquent Super Mutant who was obviously in charge, stared hard at me. My head was awhirl with confused contemplations.

              Never mind the fact that I was held captive by three female Super Mutants, they appeared to be working along the lines of a plan, and seemed more than a little interested in my nether regions. Out of fear, befuddlement and uncertainty, I wasn’t sure which emotion should attain dominance.

              And again, where was Dawn? Had she gotten away? Had they taken her too?

              Before I could contemplate things too much, Grin straightened on her knees, still taller than me and looked me square in the eye. “TURN AROUND!”

              Knowing I had little choice but to obey, I did as she asked, and was then surprised that she cut the rope squeezing my wrists.

              “Get the bindings,” the leader spoke as Grin’s machete did short work of the rope around my wrists, evidently addressing Uda as it was she who walked over to the green trunk and flipped open the lid. I heard soft metallic clinking as something was extracted from the trunk.

              “All right you two, all together now.”

              Six massive, strong hands seized my naked body all over, hoisting me up like an empty burlap sack and turned me around to face them once again, pressing me up against the bent, broken girder sticking up from the floor. Uda walked around behind the girder and used her big arms to pin me to the cold metal surface as the other two brought several cargo straps to bear on me, looping two of them around my chest and pelvis, then tightening them around me with the buckles, their metallic clicking an inevitable companion to the constriction against my exposed skin.

              With those two in place, Uda received a length of rope from the leader which she used to tie my hands behind the girder, her superior strength giving her no problems wrenching my arms into position behind the steel beam despite my hopeless attempts at resistance.

               The leader and Grin used a third cargo strap to loop over and around my thighs on the back side of the girder, so that when they began cranking the handle the tightening strap pulled my thighs wide apart. Once that was done, Uda used another length of rope around my ankles to secure them behind the steel bar I was now completely attached to, unable to do anything but move my head which stuck up over the broken top of the girder.

              I was thoroughly immobilized. Just my limbs being secured around the girder’s back would have been about impossible to break free from, but factoring in the thick, heavy-duty cargo straps wrenching me against the metal beam and keeping my thighs spread meant both that I had zero leverage with which to do anything at all, and that my entire range of motion was reduced to barely a wiggle.

              Even tied up on the slightly reclined girder the Super Mutants loomed over me, my eyes roughly level with the middle of their large, contained breasts. I panted with apprehension as well as the sudden power that had been brought to bear to strap to the cold girder, my eyes looking from one mutant to the next as I desperately tried to figure out what in the world was going on, and for the first time appreciating just how truly helpless my current situation actually was.

              For a brief moment, my thoughts and worries shifted to Dawn. I couldn’t tell for sure but I thought the both of us had been clobbered at the same time. I knew she was able to take care of herself, but ambushed as we had been I had no way of knowing what had happened.

              For the moment, however, I had to focus on myself. If I were to help Dawn, I first had to find a way out of my predicament.

              “What do you want?” I huffed, my voice not as under control as I tried to make it sound.

              “What is your name?” The leader’s rather quick response was not one I had expected.

              “What?”

              “I hear it told it is polite to exchange names when first one meet,” she said, her gravelly voice measured, confident in her control.

              I couldn’t fathom anything. The entire situation was beyond bizarre. Even so, I managed to stammer my name, not knowing what else to do.

              The leader nodded, then held out a hand to the redhead. “This is Uda.” Then to the brown mohawk. “This is Grin.” Finally, she placed her hand against her own chest. “I am Rayne.”

              I swallowed, frantically trying to think of something that would get me out of this. Even though Rayne seemed intelligent for a Super Mutant, the vast majority of them were not particularly bright, even the most articulate of them. Super Mutants were violently unpredictable, and though they seemed calm and at ease in one moment, they could be rampaging unchecked in the next. Perhaps I could somehow talk my way out of the situation, even though a little voice within laughed at the idea.

              “What do you want?” I repeated, mentally searching for an out, needing to bide time.

              Rayne nodded to the other two, who reached up towards the collection of metal arms and wires mounted in the ceiling next to the hole through which the sunlight from outside shone. “We want your milk.”

              Blinking, I found myself asking, “My milk?”
              As Uda and Grin loosened nuts, bolts and screws, starting to move the contraption of hinged metal rods down towards me, Rayne walked over to the computer on the wall next to me.

              “We heard the little girl say she wanted your milk. We need it more.”

              Mouthing words of confusion, I eventually remembered Dawn telling me last night something along the lines of milking me dry while we had the chance, given my body’s radiation-enhanced capacity for sperm production.

              Had they overheard that? And even if so, what in the world did they think it meant?

              “But why do you need my… my milk?” I asked as I eyed with growing trepidation the long glass cylinder at the end of the metal arms coming further down towards my crotch, and it didn’t take much guessing as to what the large object was. I had been subjected to similar things before.

              Rayne painstakingly pushed buttons on the keyboard with the tips of her index fingers, her Super Mutant digits far larger than what the computer was designed to be operated by. It seemed she frequently had to redo her commands before she got them right, despite guiding her fingertips with deliberate and slow care.

              “Milk makes humans strong. You have milk, the girl said so. We need milk to become stronger.”

              My head thumped back as I groaned, finally understanding what was going on.

              There was a tale of a Super Mutant down in the Commonwealth who went by the name “Strong”, who said he had read in an ancient pre-war book that some scholar or such named Mack Beth had claimed milk was the secret to humans’ strength, something referred to as the “Milk of Human Kindness”.

              While I was positive whatever Strong thought he had learned was incorrect, his legend had obviously travelled to other groups of Super Mutants, and now I found myself the captive of a trio that were very clearly about to milk me, believing my semen would grant them strength.

              “GET BIG!” Grin barked at my cock. She had squatted down to pivot the big glass and metal milking tube towards my crotch where my limp manhood lay exposed, feeling the hot air of Grin’s exhalation wash over it.

              I flinched at the sudden outburst, then again as Uda repeated Grin’s sentiment, the both of them now standing in front of me, filling my vision and glaring daggers down at my eyes with their fists on their broad hips.

              “HE’S STILL TINY BOSS!” Uda grumbled, her head turning towards Rayne, apparently expecting the leader to do something about it.

              “We’ve read about this, Uda, he needs to have an erection first.”

              “THEN GIVE HIM ERESHUN!” Grin bellowed. “WE WANT DRINK HIS MILK! GROW STRONG!”

              Rayne looked at her two compatriots, then at me, and for a brief instance I thought I saw a glint of doubt pass through her big brown eyes. “Just rub him,” she said, sounding surer than she likely was.

              I yelped when Grin’s big hand slapped against my exposed belly with such force it was likely to leave a big red handprint. With zero finesse she began dragging her hand in a wide circle, the pressure pulling my skin along in the spiral she was drawing, like giving the world’s least enjoyable massage.

              Wincing, teeth clenching, I wanted to say that that sort of “rubbing” wouldn’t achieve much of anything, but before I could speak, I jumped again at Uda’s loud grumble close to my ear.

              “HARDER! THAT NOT WORKING GOOD!”

              Grin’s application of additional pressure on my abdomen caused a momentary and wholly unpleasant sensation of my guts being pressed up into my windpipe, and the sudden crushing feeling drove the air from my lungs.

              Likely seeing my face paling, the leader told Grin to stop, and when she did, she straightened, huffing irritably that nothing had yet happened between my legs. If anything her manhandling likely had caused it to shrivel up further.

              I could feel the frustration growing between Rayne’s two henchwomen flanking me as I gulped for air, feeling as though my organs were settling back into their natural positions beneath the skin of my belly. I was getting a worrying feeling that none of them had any idea how an erection worked, and that they were going to employ increasingly belligerent methods to achieve their goals, as Super Mutants were wont to do.

              As Rayne opened her mouth and pulled in air to say something, I cut her off. I knew they were going to do what they were going to do despite my objections, and as things were it seemed I would be better off if I simply helped them rather than risk injury.

              “I can tell you have to give me an erection!” I pleaded, still heaving for air, realizing with grim humour that I had just uttered that sentence for the first time in my life.

              “HOW?” Uda demanded. Grin and Rayne also looked at me expectantly, their brows bunching in menacing scowls.

              “Well,” I began, trying to shift, forcing out the unpleasant feeling of the rope biting my wrists and ankles, at least grateful the strap across my chest wasn’t compressed so tight that it made breathing difficult Grin’s hand pressing down on my belly had been bad enough. “I need to be aroused to get an erection.”
              “HOW AROUSED?” Grin commanded, and her question had me thinking they might not actually know what the word meant.

              Swallowing, trying to quickly think of how to explain it before they lost interest in what I had to say, I looked to Rayne, deciding to address the one of the three whose intellect was clearly superior – although still on a Super Mutant level.

              “Well, I like tits,” I began, inwardly groaning at how utterly dumb this conversation had to seem to anyone were they to listen in. “If you were to undress your upper bodied, that would help me start to get aroused.”

              “HOW WILL–“ Grin started but was cut off by Rayne.

              “Do what he says, he will know how to get an erection.”

              Grumbling to herself, seeming more annoyed than self-conscious, Grin began stripping her upper body, the other two following suit, coming to stand next to her in front of me.

              With hardly any grumbling or looks of annoyed exasperation, Rayne’s two goons – and Rayne herself – began undoing the various rusty buckles, matted buttons and frayed knots that closed their homemade garb and armour, brusquely throwing things to the floor with soft clatters as they bared their torsos.

              The shed clothing revealed the somewhat cruel perfection of the FEV virus that had at one point transformed these women from humans to Super Mutants, their bulging physique sculpted to an impossible degree, their bulk and very obvious might making it seem as though they could snap a boulder in half above their heads.

              Of course, my focus was not on the chiselled abdomens nor wide hips and thighs.

              I had seen some ginormous breasts in my day, but what was revealed before me had no contest from anything. The mass of each massive orange boob had to equal that of my own torso, or were perhaps half again as big, and despite their apparent weight one would think would doom them all to droop and sag quite unattractively, the shape, heft and firmness of all three sets were impossible in their perfection.

              Swivelling my head from side to side my vision were filled with the mutants’ impressive display of womanflesh, their nipples a slightly darker tint of orange from their soft skin, the sight of them having me feel a familiar twitch in my still relaxed manhood.

              I did not realize until I saw six eyes stare hard at me that my mouth was agape, so I snapped it shut.

              “WELL?” Uda asked, pointing an accusatory finger between my forcibly spread thighs. “WHEN EREKOON?”

              Swallowing, the tone reminding me just how precarious my admittedly bizarre situation truly was, I shifted nervously against the steel beam they had me strapped to.

              “Okay, well, it is a good start. Next, I, uh…” my eyes snapped from one pair of cold mutant orbs to the next as I frantically tried to think of how to help them along before they got bored with taking directions. Other times in similar situations my captors had never not known how to force an erection, but then it seemed the trio of huge-titted women before me were – almost – comically inexperienced.

              I took a calming breath, then said the first thing that came into my head. “Put your hands on my body, but be gentle about it. Rub and touch my nipples, caress my thighs and belly, that will help speed my erection along.” I dared not tell them to start stimulating my dick directly until it got hard. At least then it would stand better up to what was sure to be less than tender caresses.

              Eying each other like this was all very strange to them but none daring to argue, the trio stepped closer and leaned in, having the added effect of Rayne’s tits, who was in the middle, rubbing against the left and right breasts of her henchwomen beside her, their firm, fantastic boobs squishing and rubbing against each other.

              Massive hands descended on me, and my instinct was to shirk away, making me press against the girder, but of course there was no escaping them. With surprising delicacy, the six big hands fell upon me, doing as I had asked.

              Hands rubbed my belly and chest, my upper arms, my thighs. I winced and spoke through gritted teeth that they were welcome to pinch and pluck on my nipples but that they had to use a lighter touch. The hands that rubbed up and down my inner thighs periodically had fingers brush against my hanging balls and perineum.

              Somehow despite my peril, I felt blood pump into my tool. The mutants noticed when it began climbing, and with not completely wicked grins they became emboldened to what they were doing, seemingly more eager to follow my directions now that they had visible proof of their effectiveness.

              “Now, one of you,” I began, speaking slowly, not wanting anything to be misunderstood. “Spit in your palm a few times and grab my cock. Do not crush it in your grip, nor be as gentle as you have been with my nipples, but enclose my cock in your hand.”

              Exchanging looks, they came to a wordless agreement that Rayne, the leader, ought to take charge of this clearly critical junction in their efforts. Rayne took her hand away from my chest and deposited two good globs of thick slobber in her palm. Then, with deliberate care so as not to spill anything she lowered her hand, splashing her spittle over my length when she grabbed hold of me.

              I groaned softly at the feel of the warm spit and strong fist grabbing me. As I had asked and as I had prayed, she didn’t squeeze the life out of it, but kept a reasonable level of pressure. I felt my heartbeat against her palm, felt my cock fight to expand in her hand. Even were I completely erect, Rayne’s big hand would easily enclose me from base to past my tip. I was not a small guy by any means, but she was certainly that large.

              It took a moment before I had realized all hands had ceased stimulation on me as the three of them looked, wide-eyed, at me, clearly waiting on me to direct them again.

              “Carefully, stroke me,” I said as deliberately as before. “Use your spit to allow your palm to glide up and down my length.”

              She did, making me twitch in the restraints.

              “That’s good,” I sighed. “Can you feel it getting harder?”

              Rayne took a moment to consider, looking out into the air as she awkwardly stroked my expanding erection, pushing her lips out in deliberation. “Yes, yes I can feel it.”

              When Rayne looked up at the machine they had started to prepare I hurried to add, “But I am not fully hard yet. While you do that, one of the other two should suck my balls, carefully. That will help me get to a complete erection.”

              Still stroking, Rayne looked to her side and found Grin. “Do as he says. His help is working.”

              With a slight sigh signifying an emotion I was unable to read, Grin moved behind Rayne who stepped aside, careful not to let go of my cock, to allow Grin to position herself in the centre. Lowering herself on her knees she found she was still far too high, and my cock throbbed at seeing her near meter-long cleavage so close. She scooted back until she was far enough away and slightly to the side of the girder. Leaning forward she managed to get an angle on my testicles, and as I hurriedly repeated that she had to be careful, she took both balls into her big mouth.

              “That’s good,” I moaned, slightly surprised at her delicate suction, my toes curling behind me. It wasn’t often a girl felt confident enough to orally service both testicles at the same time, but then Grin’s mouth was unquestionably big enough to accommodate them.

              “You can use your tongue to lick them inside your mouth as well,” I said, barely managing to get the full sentence out before I felt the slick tip of her tongue tickle delightfully over my balls. I groaned again.

              With Rayne stroking, Grin sucking my balls and Uda, having moved around behind me to reach around and finger both my nipples, I strained to full hardness inside the leader’s palm in short order. Somewhat relieved that I had managed to coach them this far without injury to myself, I didn’t relish having to tell them I was ready. But then I didn’t have much choice. Better to be ahead of them than let them grow frustrated and impatient. No matter how clever or unintelligent a Super Mutant was, one could not reason with them like one could a human.

              “Okay, I have a full erection now,” I said somewhat dejected, trying not to think about how many borderline stupid sentenced I had produced in very short order. “In fact, Rayne, if you keep stroking me like that you’re going to make me, well, spill my milk.”

              Rayne let go of me like my cock had turned into a white-hot metal rod. As my dick sprung into view, all three mutants eyed it with something akin to wonder mixed with trepidation.

              “Keep sucking his balls, Grin, he seems to like it.”

              Only when Rayne said that did I realize I was huffing and groaning softly at having my balls inside Grin’s mouth, feeling her tongue draw circles around them.

              “Help me with this, Uda,” the leader said as she reached up towards the machinery, her tits hanging over me like an avalanche poised to smother my face.

              “YES BOSS,” Uda nodded and reached up, moving closer and inadvertently pushing her tits on either side of my head, partially burying the back of it in her cleavage. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the feeling.

              Together Rayne and Uda manipulated the screws and bolts until the metal arms brought the glass tube down far enough that its pink opening pointed at my throbbing, spit shining erection, currently resting up against my belly. The milking-tube was big, the length of it nearly as long as my torso, the metallic end of the cylinder to which the big rubbery tubes connected clearly housing powerful machinery.

              Then, Rayne walked over to the computer and began typing, her comically big fingers giving her trouble and her big forearms hefting her tits up as she did so. Uda pulled her boobs away from my head and attached the two thick rubber cables that connected just above the glass cylinder to the two containers hanging on the wheeled metal rod she had brought in.

              One cable she screwed into place at the top of the empty bucket, the other at the bottom of the one filled with a viscous liquid that I now realized was lube.

              Had there been any doubts there was now none left that what the Super Mutants had found was a proper milking-machine, one that looked more sophisticated when compared to other more bespoke machines I had been subjected to in the past. Its design and industrial size also meant it was definitely of pre-war make, and looked so clean and unmarred that it seemed it had been boxed up since before the bombs fell.

              They truly were committed to getting my “milk”, which they had been duped into believing would make them stronger.

              Then a worrying notion blossomed in my head: what if, when they didn’t feel stronger after ingesting my semen, they simply believed they had to harvest much more?

              A soft whir and click sounded from within the machine as Rayne kept pressing buttons, and an air bubble surfacing inside the bucket of lube precipitated a steady drip inside the glass tube that fell to coat three pink rings that were about a finger’s width each at the bottom of the tube.

              The three rings were clearly separate but bunched so close together that they appeared like one piece until you looked carefully. Two steel rods just inside the glass surface of the tube on opposite sides of each other looked to have grooves with small springs and cogs within them, and it was clear the three pink rings were attached on both sides to these rods.

              The pink rings themselves were, far as I could make out from my current position, made of a synthetic fleshy material with textured, tight interiors, clearly the driving mechanism behind this particular brand of milker.

              As strings of thick lube fell onto the top of the three rings, the amount of viscous drool soon began trickling through the puckered openings of all three to pitter against the sloped surface of the girder between my legs.

              “Now Uda, get it into position.”

              Together with Rayne, the two of them – Grin was watching with interest but busied herself with my balls in her mouth – lined the tube up with my cock which Rayne pointed skyward with a finger pushing on my shaft. Then, as I groaned with the forced pleasure of the tight fit, they slid the entire tube down my shaft until the metal rim pressed against my lower abdomen.

              My cock protruded through the three rings, standing straight inside the middle of the glass cylinder, the sensation of their tight, bumpy interiors making me groan and flex my body.

              Rayne and Uda hurried to tighten all the nuts, bolts and screws again, allowing the machine, coming down from its mount in the ceiling, to remain in position without anyone having to hold it. I knew what was coming and tried to steel myself for it.

              “Keep sucking his balls,” Rayne addressed Grin as she walked back over to the computer.

              Grin gave a throaty acquiescing response, the additional rumbling through my wet testicles making me sigh anew.

              Putting careful index fingers to the keyboard, hitting the sequences painfully slowly lest her big fingertips press more than they were supposed to, Rayne spoke to Uda without looking at her. “It seems he liked having his head between your tits. Go stand behind him again and caress his nipples.”

              “YES BOSS,” Uda said in a tone of voice I wasn’t sure conveyed enthusiasm or grievance. She walked behind me and stood close, her boobs resting on my shoulders as she put the back half of my head between them.

              “Now then, sisters,” Rayne said with obvious satisfaction. “We can begin milking him.”

              I was about to argue the fault in their master plan again, despite knowing it was futile, when electric signals travelling from Rayne’s old terminal coursed into the milker, starting it up, making me yelp.

              The rings began moving. The bottom one kept encircling the base of my shaft as the other two rose, using the two rods on either side of the cylinder to climb and descend. The top ring rose all the way until it could rise no more, well past the tip of my cock, the middle one stopping just underneath my cockhead. Thus arranged they seemed to indicate the top, bottom and middle of their range of motion.

              “It says ‘Calibrating, please wait’,” Rayne said, sounding a little confused.

              “WAIT FOR WHAT?” Uda shouted. Having her tits press against my ears helped soften her barks.

              “I don’t know, it is counting.”

              After a moment that was just long enough that I began worrying about the mutants running out of patience, the two topmost rings moved again going up and down my cock in a seemingly random pattern – the feelings they elicited as they dragged their slick textures up and down my shaft making me shiver with delight – they eventually came to a halt at precisely the same time, the top ring clutching my cockhead and the second ring gripping the middle of my shaft.

              Evidently the machine had just measured out the length of my cock from tip to base.

              “’Proceed with currently loaded program?’” Rayne muttered, her eyes squinting at the green light from the screen which I could no longer turn to see as Uda’s gigantic boobs effectively obscured everything not directly in front of me.

              “Yes,” Rayne murmured and hit a button, the soft click of the input heralding more motion inside the cylinder.

              In disunity, the two topmost pink rings within the cylinder began moving, their slippery tight insides pressing and rotating against my erection, eliciting an immediate reacting by way of a long moan. The topmost ring rose up past my tip until it wasn’t in contact with me anymore, paused for half a second, then descended, the tight inner ring stretching over my red head until it barely passed the glans where it halted again, then went back up.

              The second ring moved slightly faster than the first and not in synchronous harmony, completing two up-and-down motions from the top quarter of my shaft down to the base in the same time the first did a single stroke of my cockhead. It was like having two small hands from two different girls jerking me where one did not try to move in tandem with the other.

              There was little arguing the sensations despite the disharmonious motions, however, as the twirling, lube-coated, fleshy and bumpy interiors of the rings rubbed me in ways no hand could hope to match, increasing my heart-rate and forcing groans out of my throat on a regular basis.

              The third ring at the bottom did not move at all, content to grab around my base, and as tightly as it held on, I got the impression it might not move at all, simply serving as an anchor point that held my dick in place, lined up with the other two. It definitely squeezed a little harder than the other two rings, and considering its placement right at the base of my shaft, it wasn’t unlikely it also played the part of cock-ring to help keep my erection nice and strong.

              Between my legs, Grin was dutifully slurping away at my balls, her eyes almost crossed as she tried looking at the action happening inside the tube right in front of her face. A steady dripping of lube was continuously pumped into the cylinder to fall onto my cock and into the top ring, which was then spread down my length by the stroking. In short order the amount of lube was so much it began trickling out of the machine’s base to run down my thighs.

              I groaned again when the top ring completed another unhurried trek up and back down my glans. I heard a grumble behind me. “WHY IS HE GRUNTING SO MUCH!” It didn’t sound like Uda was asking a question.

              Before Rayne had the chance to address the complaint with whatever sure to be half-baked mutant explanation she might have for the phenomenon, I spoke first, choosing my approach in such a way to make them understand they wanted me to make such noises.

              “Because that feels very good on my cock, it’s going to make me give you my milk, eventually.”

              Uda hmphed in a way that left it open whether or not the answer was satisfactory, and when she shifted her upper body my head, trapped in her tits, moved with her.

              Though the machine wasn’t being hasty about anything, it was no doubt it was going to force an orgasm in no time. With the direct stimulation all over my length, adding in the quite pleasant oral work of Grin’s warm mouth and tongue on my balls and Uda’s fingers gently rubbing and plucking my nipples, I wasn’t given much of a chance to resist. Not to mention the three pairs of huge bared boobies right next to me, one pair of which partially swallowing my head whole.

              My desire to cum mounted along with every stroke of the two rings, working me at different speeds and intervals, and the slow rise towards the inevitable had me subconsciously pull on the rope binding my wrists and ankles behind the steel girder.

              “I think he is getting close,” said Rayne, who I noticed wasn’t engaged with the computer but rather watched my crotch with obvious interest, her big, strong arms crossed underneath her sizable melons.

              “ID LEEKSH!” came a slurping complaint from between my legs as Grin spoke round her mouthful, her voice sending tremors through me and making me sigh with the enjoyable feeling.

              Looking down I saw she had a wet spot on her forehead, and what she had meant to say, “it leaks”, became obvious when another drop of lubrication dripped down onto her from the machine, evidently squeezing through a narrow gap or joint where the glass cylinder was screwed into the metal. Faulty gasket, maybe.

              Frowning, Rayne turned back to the computer and began applying careful fingertips to the keyboard. “It won’t let me turn the drip off,” she said after a little moment. “But we have enough lube. You will just have to bear with it, Grin.”

              Nostrils flaring in annoyance, Grin said nothing but continued sucking and licking my spheres, which she had noticed were being pulled up against my cock as my impending eruption loomed. Not about to let them get away from her, she sucked them hard enough to make me yelp, using nothing but suction to pull them down to let her lips “bite” down around the sack to trap them inside her mouth lest they run away again.

              “I’m gonna cum,” I moaned, my head leaning back further into Uda’s cleavage as my hands balled up, sensing that the potency of this orgasm would be way above average.

              Cock stroked, balls sucked, nipples caressed, I steeled myself for the impending explosion, eyes squeezing shut as I pulled a deep breath for my imminent screams.

              Except there was no orgasm.

              Letting out my breath in a daze of huffing confusion, it took me a moment to realize the two rings had stopped moving along my visibly throbbing manhood. The topmost ring had just cleared my tip and hung stationary above it, the second one had descended all the way down to snuggle up against the third around my base, equally unmoving.

              The soft mechanical noises the machine had made during its motions had ceased, and the only sounds left in the room was my panting and the wet sound of Grin’s ball-tonguing.

              “What happened?” I gasped, my entire body still rigid after the unexpected denial.

              Frowning in confusion, an expression I didn’t think I liked to see on her, Rayne starred down at the monitor, her fingers making delicate taps on the keys. “I don’t understand…”

              “WHY NO MILKING ANYMORE?” Uda demanded, her fingers suddenly pinching my nipples a little too hard for my taste, making me suck air through clenched teeth.

              Rayne’s lips were scrunched up in confusion, her brow bunched as her big eyes regarded the monitor. “I’m not sure,” she muttered in a low tone, her fingertips gingerly making taps on the keys. “It says the program is running normally.”

              “Well I disagree,” I complained, my cock throbbing hard with the desire to get off, but the three rings were content to sit perfectly still. Despite the precarious nature of my situation, having gotten to this point I found I wanted to get off. I gasped as Grin, a streak of lube running from her forehead down the side of her head, pulled on my balls with her lips, making them pop out of her mouth. Seemingly unconcerned with the machine’s issues, she immediately seized my sack back into her mouth, slobber and drool giving her a chin a sheen in the light.

              Uda, the annoyance within her all but seething out of her pores, was still clamping her thumb and finger onto my nipples as Rayne attempted to work out what the problem was. Her inputs eventually seemed to get the machine working again, as the two top rings resumed the rotating strokes same as before, the second moving slightly faster than the first up and down my shaft, the first content to rub my glans over and over.

              It took all of half a minute for the slick bumpy rings to bring me back to the edge, having me huffing from the first slide.

              “All right, I’m gonna cum,” I groaned, preparing for the climax same as last time, the two rings having me tremble all over as the two Super Mutants kept seeing to my balls and nipples with varying levels of delicacy.

              As before, the rings moved to their idle positions when I was knocking at paradise’s door, ceasing all stimulation and leaving me a trembling body of flexed muscles with my breath held deep in my lungs.

              With frustration and mounting annoyance, I released the breath as a loud, frustrated groan, which warped into a sharp yell of pain when Uda twisted my nipples.

              “STUPID MACHINE IS BROKEN!” she roared, pulling my nipples out hard enough that I was momentarily afraid she would rip them off. If nothing else it got my mind off the second denied orgasm which still coursed from my crotch into every limb.

              Rayne shook her head incredulously, the tips of her index fingers returning to the keyboard. “Why is it not…” she muttered to nobody, not hearing Uda’s gripes nor my groans.

              I unconsciously pulled on the rope bound around my wrists on the back of the girder and twisted my body as well I could, both from having once again lost what would be an exquisite orgasm and the pain lancing into me through my compressed nipples. Uda took this as a sign of resistance and grabbed a fistful of my hair with one hand, jerking it back into her cleavage as the other hand landed a hard slap on my belly, the sting of which was doubled from having been tenderized by Grin’s hard rubbing earlier.

              “STAY STILL!” she barked, anger all but spitting down onto my face.

              Stilling my tongue lest I say something that would escalate the situation, particularly now that Rayne seemed too engrossed with the computer to come to my aid should Uda get out of hand, I gritted my teeth and pulled a deep breath, forcing my body to remain still in the cargo straps and rope.

              All of a sudden, the rings resumed their work, making me jolt in surprise and moan at the sudden pleasure, but by the way Rayne held her hands up from the keyboard was confirmation of what she then said.

              “I didn’t do anything.” She was still staring down at the screen, clearly at a loss of what was going on.

              A small part of me was praying, now that the two rings were once more massaged my glans and shaft quite expertly that orgasm would finally arrive. But a larger part of me was positive that whatever program the computer was running was set to loop like this, to bring me close and then stop.

              The fact that it had managed to halt stimulation when I had been as little as a second away from blessed relief had me thinking it was no coincidence. I didn’t know how – Dawn could likely figure it out, she was the tech wiz between us – but I assumed this machine the mutants had found somewhere had to have some sort of sensors inside the three rings that somehow told the computer how close I was to orgasm.

              While I didn’t know what sort of sophisticated pre-war technology could do such a thing, I was even more sure of the truth of it when the rings became idle once more just as I hit the edge for the third time.

              Unable to restrain myself I wailed loudly with frustration and the lost sensation.

              At the moment I really didn’t care about anything else. My male brain, already enslaved to the sensations of my cock, coupled with my body’s irradiated perk of excessive sperm-production stripped all other considerations from me. And it did not help matters in the slightest that my balls were being perpetually licked and sucked inside Grin’s warm mouth, and that my head was inside Uda’s cleavage.

              “QUIET STUPID HUMAN!” Uda doubled down on my nipples again just as the rings resumed working me, and it felt like the interval between stop and start was significantly shorter than last time.

              The scream I made was part nipple-pain and part resumed stimulation, my body hurtled into a strange zone of conflicting sensory overload. A quick glance at Rayne between my huffing told me she was clueless as to what was happening and why. It seemed the Super Mutants knew even less than I had given them credit for. It wasn’t unheard of for a Super Mutant to know how to operate computers and machinery, but it seemed this lot had done little else but find the required equipment and then assume it would work the way they wanted it to when they switched it on.

              I was quickly brought to the edge again, and the machine predictably stopped what it was doing, having me writhing against the girder as I grew both more desperate and more enraged at the mutants’ poor planning. Since they wanted to forcibly milk me then at least they could go about it correctly!

              “Please!” I screamed when the machine completed another cycle, which was about three strokes that seamlessly took me from one edge to the next. “I have to fucking cum already!”

Uda’s manhandling of my nipples as she ordered me to pipe down had made them numb enough that I barely noticed any more.

              I lost count of how many times the machine edged me, now working with dreadfully short intervals that only utilized the top ring dragging once up or down my glans to produce the next edge, the second ring only gripping me around the middle of the shaft.

              “For fuck’s sake just let me cum!”

              “I’M GETTING THE GAG!” Uda bellowed, evidently having had enough of my noises. She moved away from me towards the trunk, telling Grin to keep playing with my raw nipples. I clenched my teeth again when Grin reached up, never pausing her sucking, to pinch a nipple between her thumb and forefinger, it having regained just enough sensation to feel the sting.

              Returning with a black ball-gag, Uda took up her position behind me, placing a big hand on my forehead and pushed the back half of my head back into her cleavage, then began fumbling with her big fingers to work the human-sized buckle of the gag to free both straps.

              The machine edged me pitilessly. I screamed obscenities and pleas throughout. Uda demanded I be quiet. Rayne frantically typed. Grin tongued my testicles. More lube dripped onto her forehead. It felt like my very lifeforce was being pulled from every cell in my body to converge inside my cock, ready to explode in a miniature singularity of unfathomable sensation if I was only allowed to achieve it.

              The machine ceased its motions yet again, but this time the rings hadn’t returned to their usual positions. Instead, the top ring was around my tip, the soft and textured inner ring squeezing against my glans with a bump right on my frenulum. Panting, sweating and desperate, it didn’t help matters to know that had I but been able to move my dick inside the tube I would be able to get myself off by fucking the top ring.

              “I think I got it,” Rayne’s voice was louder than it had been before, probably she was trying to make sure she would be heard over my cussing and Uda’s commands for silence. She looked up from the monitor as her big fingers hit a final button.

              Whimpering, feeling clammy with sweat all over, lube and Grin’s slobber running down my inner thighs into the crack of my ass, the machine whirred up once more, causing the top and middle rings to move. This time the pattern was quite different from before, and the new stimulation caught my breath in my throat as every muscle in my body hardened.

              The middle ring piston-pumped from the third ring gripping my base almost all the way up to the neck of my cockhead, sliding easily on the excessive amounts of lube, the speed such that the pink cylinder was a blurry tube shaking up and down. The topmost ring, moving out of synch with the second as before, was primed on my glans, it too moving so fast it was an out-of-focus blotch of pink speeding up and down, spinning on and massaging my bulbous head unceasingly.

              “I’m…” I didn’t get any farther. My eyes rolled back in my skull and my body felt like it was falling backwards through the girder, through a void, and at the same time it felt like my entire being was being sucked up into the machine that expertly stroked me past the point of no return.

              I couldn’t see as my mind whited out, but I could feel the first jet of thick cum shoot out of me before the orgasm made its arrival properly known. When it did, I screamed hard, loud, long, howling like a razor wind as I shook violently in the restraints, the cunning machine’s rings coaxing me to release every drop I had, the slick, tight rings rubbing and stroking me hard and fast.

              Mid-climax, blind to the world around me, I felt a big hand clamp down over my mouth, its size easily covering it, my cheeks and my chin, the pressure behind it pressing my head a little deeper into the big cleavage behind me.

              “LOUD!” Uda roared behind me as I screamed into her palm.

              My eyes coming back down and the world reasserting itself before me, still not done climaxing, tingling from my toes to my ears, I watched the two pink blurs inside the glass cylinder jerk me with tremendous speed, forcing another jet of creamy seed to splurt out. Only when seeing it did I notice a powerful suction inside the cylinder that pulled my cum up and out into the flexible black tube that deposited my product in the previously empty glass container racked next to the one filled with lube.

              My first orgasm had filled more than a third of the container already, and I knew that was not a normal amount for anyone else. But me with my condition, well, that was just proof of why I needed regular milkings lest my balls fill to bursting.

              Huffing as I descended from the peak, still weathering potent aftershocks of carnal bliss, Uda removed her hand now that I had stopped moaning. Without giving me another chance to annoy her ears, she indelicately forced the gag into my mouth, the sphere’s insertion wrenching my teeth apart. After some fat-fingered fiddling she managed to get the strap into the buckle, securing the gag tightly around my head. I had neither the energy nor the might to fight her. It was easier to let her do what she did.

              The rings in the machine had settled to a much slower tempo but were still stroking me, the second one gliding slightly quicker along my shaft than the first one was did over my cockhead. Every stroke of the tip made me jerk with the added sensitivity, a steady ooze of the last remnants of cum dribbling out as it did. I wasn’t immune to hypersensitivity post-orgasm, but my condition made it less severe after only one or two climaxes. Naturally, with repeated orgasms I would be begging never to cum again if only the stimulation would stop.

              “Grin, go get another bucket.” Rayne was ogling the container of cum, nearly half full already. “In fact, bring all of them. Seems he makes more milk than we had thought.” Her expression was one of awed disbelief. I barely heard her, my bound body still trembling softly, twitching whenever the top ring made a pass over my glans.

              My balls popped out of Grin’s mouth, seeking to shrivel up underneath my shaft now that they were finally released. “YES BOSS,” she said as she straightened, leaving the room through the door as she wiped drool and lube off her face with the backs of her hands.

              “CAN WE TASTE MILK NOW?” Uda asked, her fingers back on my nipples now that she didn’t have to worry about me talking.

              “Soon,” Rayne said absently, her gaze back on the computer. “I want to make sure the program is running correctly first.”

              I rested into Uda’s cleavage, not really hearing what anyone was saying, so lost in a post-orgasmic cloud of splendid feelings and lusty sensations. It was enough to make me forget in whose hands I was, and that I still didn’t know what had become of Dawn. Uda’s huge soft boobs felt wonderful to rest my head against.

              Grin returned, four glass buckets in each big hand. “GOT THEM BOSS.”

              Rayne gestured and Grin unscrewed the lid to which the black tube was connected, removed the container sloshing with thick cream and put the lid on a fresh one, which she hung next to the lube container.

              Handing the glass bucket over to Rayne, Grin’s expression saying she didn’t wish to part with it, the leader scrutinized my “milk” up close. All of their eyes shifted to me when I yelped and groaned as the machine’s rings began speeding up again. More lube was pumped into the cylinder, and within a minute the two rings were stroking me as violently as they had been when they had made me cum. Unsurprisingly, I was getting close again very fast.

              “The machine works as intended now,” Rayne said, and though the other two nodded I thought she looked less confident than what her voice attempted to convey. “Let’s go sample this first batch and come back for more.”

              As Uda removed her tits from me I watched, disbelievingly, as the three of them left the room with the container of sperm, not once looking back, leaving me alone at the mercy of the machine.

              Disbelieving at first, my mind quickly turned to other matters as the machine had me cumming once more in short order, my gagged screams sounding for nobody as I plunged into post-orgasmic hypersensitivity and wondering when the Super Mutants would actually return. I tried calling, begging, but the only sounds apart from my own muffled please were the enthusiastic strokes of the pitiless milker.

              In their absence, the machine simply went through the milking cycle over and over.

                                                                      To be continued..?

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Find the companion artwork for this short story, by AndysDames, in this month's Dropbox folder!
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