Dairy

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The farmer leads in the last of his stock and checks his herd for the night. All 4 are locked into metal containment. Crickets chirp. Femmes moan. 

Oh the country life.

 By morning, a fog has settled. Silenced sobs can be heard. Then a unusual view emerges. A wooden cross is the central element. A four-by-four juts out from the gam of the cross. The edge of the four-by-four is revved upward and Angelica sits on it, her legs stretched so that it cuts into her crotch. She is locked into metal stocks. Her ankles are fettered and fettered upward to either end of the stocks. From there, on both sides, the chain is fed upward through pulleys then downward, fastening to the funbag restrain bondage of 2 girls, 411 and Piglet. Their hands are roped behind their backs. They have wooden bits roped into their mouths. Both of them are standing on tiptoes, the 3 Femmes counterbalancing one another. 

Now the farmer leads his cows up to pasture. They ensue in a line, fettered neck to neck. A wooden rafter is bound to Angelica so that it wags back and forward inbetween her legs, kneading her pussy. Moonshine and 411 both have four-by-fours roped to their arms, holding them gay-for-pay outward. Piglet’s hands are roped behind her back. 
Piglet hangs in a highly petite cage, folded up rigidly on her knees. She is led to the tugging station and fettered in place. The tugging tubes gargle onto her nipples. The pump, whoosh, pump, whoosh of the milker strikes time as her nips are milked. Mr. Pogo drills her mouth. Then Pogo slams into her fuckbox amid her cries, a concoction of sensation and distress. A white froth collects around the opening to her vagina. The massager is used on her. A tube is liquidated from her funbag and gargled onto her clit. The inward sleeve opens and closes over her distended pussy. The marks from the rim of the tube form a authoritative ring above her nipple. She no longer has tits. Piglet has teats. When she comes, she squeals. Piglet is bent over the platform, her pecs fettered to the apparatus. A club is lowered over the petite of her back and locked down. Her neck is fettered down and her hands roped behind her back. Her feet are stretched and fettered to either side. A spider gag heads in her mouth. He brings in the milker, a stainless steel canister with a pump and tubes that fasten to teats, in this case, tits. Piglet’s milk cans droop downward, He wets the areolas and raises the tubes into place. They gargle on. Her nips are drawn down into the tubes. The milker sets up a rhythm, pump, whoosh, pump, whoosh. The inward sleeves of the tubes collapse and re-inflate as she is milked. A hook smashes her asshole. She is vibed to orgasm. Afterward, a tugging tube is taken from a funbag and suctioned onto her pussy. Her joy button is pulled into the hatch of the tube . 


Piglet crawls back to the barnyard. Angelica’s head is all that we watch of her, locked into place at ground level. Piglet is ordered to pee on Angelica’s head. 

411 is jacked next. The tubes gargle onto funbag after tit. When the tube is applied to pussy, the absorption slurps at it, deep throating the joy button deep into the jaws of the tube. Moonshine urinates during her milking, her teats plumped out by the milker. Asen Angelica is milked, 411 is brought in, her hands roped back in a leather sleeve. She wears a black fetish mask and a shining black ribbed dildo. Angelica is screwed in time with the tempo of the milker. Fuck, suck, fuck, suck. 

Outside, the dairy farmer takes a break, peeing into a funnel. It jacks onto Moonshine, locked into her metal box. Angelica is brought to the funnel and told to pee also. Urine cascades onto Moonshine, running down the rocks of the wall.

All 4 Femmes are roped rigidly in different postures on the floor of the barn. Wooden bits have been bound into every mouth. Angelica, roped rigidly into a ball, sobs from the pain of the bondage. Piglet rests on her bulbous breasts, flattening them. The Femmes squeal and breathe and writhe, their sobs echoing through the barn. Strings of spit drip. Moonshine’s labial jewelry gleams inbetween the backs of her thighs. Urine erupts, running down her leg. They attempt to help one another get out, but it only shows up to cause more suffering. 

The last shot is of 3 Femmes that have been squished into one metal box, a squirming mass of damsel meat. The doors are closed and locked. They’re bedded down for the night.