Captives of Alien Milkers Bk. 02 Pt. 02

The ceiling lights in the quarters and the common area automatically dimmed at a pre-determined time, mimicking the cycle that the human women were used to. A heavy curtain could close off the room from the common area, giving the illusion of privacy. The only sounds were the shuffling of feet, the murmurs of conversation and the occasional moans of sex.

Barbara was still outside somewhere. Karla Thrace lay naked on her bunk, the fingers of her right hand working idly between her legs. She wasn't masturbating, exactly, just touching herself the same way a non-drugged, non-modified woman might tap her fingers on a table. Their bodies, ultimately, demanded so much attention that they became the focus of even their unconscious activity.

Lavergne was also naked on her bunk, her white panties still around one ankle. She lightly stroked her almost-full breasts, teasing the nipples erect and wiping away the tiny droplets of milk. They were truly huge, and Kayla could only imagine the shoulder pain from hauling them around. She let her eyes run slowly up at down the black woman's form, taking in the muscles, the stretch marks, the languorous way her long, thick legs rubbed against each other.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Lavergne asked quietly, "Hey, it's Karla, right? You awake?"

"It's Karla. And yes, I am. Did you want to fuck?"

Lavergne chuckled wearily, sadly. "Don't take it the wrong way, and it may change as time goes on, but right now I'm horny, but not for pussy. I like a dick. So I'm just gonna wait 'til they milk me and ride that dildo."

"Sure," Karla said. "No worries."

"What about you? You a lesbian?"

"Yes. I've got a wife somewhere. Sarah."

"I've got a husband. Dexter, but we all call him Junior."

They were both silent for a moment, thinking back to their past lives. Karla imagined Sarah's moans as her wife licked her, and her fingers worked more deliberately on her own clit. Would she ever feel that delicate, knowing touch again? Would Sarah ever beg to come from Karla's own ministrations?

Karla sucked in air as she climaxed, drawing her knees up to her chest, her hand pinned between her thighs.

"That must be nice," Lavergne said. "When my titties get full, I can't come."

"I'm sorry," Karla said, slowly coming down from her orgasm. She was drenched with sweat, and her hand was soaked with her juices. She wiped it on the mattress. "I don't meant to make you uncomfortable."

"Can I ask you something?" Lavergne said.

"Sure."

"How come you run around naked? Is it so you can fuck at a moment's notice?"

Karla laughed. The question was so ridiculous and a little insulting, yet what was the point of getting upset about it? "No, I promise, I don't fuck at a moment's notice. I just don't see the point of modesty in this situation. There aren't enough clothes for everyone, so I leave them to the women who feel like they need them."

"Like me."

"Believe me, what you were wearing today didn't hide a thing."

Now Lavergne laughed, but it cut off as she winced. "Sorry, can't laugh too hard, makes my titties slosh around." After a moment she added, "I want to escape. What about you?"

"Always. I refuse to accept this as the rest of my life."

Lavergne carefully turned on her side, guiding her enormous, taut breasts into position. "Do you have a plan?"

"I've been trying to fight the vibrators they use on us."

"Why?" Lavergne almost laughed.

"Because it's a way to take back some control," Karla said defensively.

"I guess. But it won't get us out of here." She watched Karla's dim form in the darkness. "Who had this bunk before me?"

"Rhoda. She was French. The changes never fully took for her."

"What do you think they did to her?"

"Who knows? When you can't produce, you're gone."

"Doesn't that give you an idea?"

"What idea? We can't change how much milk we produce."

"No, but we can change how much milk they get from us."

Karla thought this over. It might work; if their milk production suddenly dropped, they might be taken wherever women like Rhoda were taken. Of course, they had no way to know where that was, or what might happen to them once they got there. But it would get them out of the closed system they were confined in now.

The curtain slid aside and Barbara, naked, stepped into the room. Even in the dim light, they could see her empty breasts. She padded to Karla's bunk, touched her shoulder and said softly, "Please?"

Karla knew what this meant. After her time on the vibrator, Barbara remained caught in arousal, desperate for more. She and Barbara made love almost every sleep-cycle now, though they practically ignored each other during the day. Karla got to her feet and took the older woman in her arms. The touch of bare skin on bare skin fired up both of them, but their touches were gentle. Karla licked the tears from Barbara's cheeks.

"I'm so lonely," Barbara whimpered, kissing Karla's shoulder.

"I know, baby," Karla said, stroking the other woman's silver hair. "I'm here for you."

It was strange to make love to a woman and consider that her breasts, and your own, off-limits. Ordinarily she'd have kissed her way down to Barbara's nipples the same way she used to do Sarah's, before taking them lightly in her teeth and flicking the tips with her tongue. But depending on the time in their milking cycle, nipples were either flaccid at the end of drooping breasts, or distended with the onset of milk. They were the least erogenous zones imaginable now. So Karla slid to her knees and started kissing Barbara's sagging belly just above her navel.

Barbara's hands caressed Karla's hair. "Yes," she whispered, "oh, yes, I need it..."

Karla glanced over. Lavergne lay still on her bunk, hands cupping her huge breasts, eyes watching them in the dimness with a mixture of pity and envy.

Karla's lips moved into Barbara's gray pubic hair. The older woman moaned and her whole body shook. This close, the smell of her arousal was intoxicating.

Karla put her hands on Barbara's waist and guided her to the bunk. Barbara sat, legs wantonly spread, back against the wall, as Karla leaned in and began to lick her. "Unnnn," Barbara said. "Uhhhhh...ohhhhh..."

Now Karla began to cry. She had no desire to taste any other woman than Sarah, and yet here she was, willingly on her knees, her face buried in Barbara's pussy. Worse, her own body was responding as well, making her slick and sensitive, completely ignoring her moral compass. If she did escape, how could she ever explain it to Sarah? How could she ever taste Sarah again knowing she'd done this, and all the other things she'd done since they caught her? How could she ever be anything other than an animal?

"Oh, yes...yes, almost, I'm...oh, god," Barbara said, grabbing fistfuls of Karla's hair and pulling her tight against her. "I'm coming, I'm coming..."

Karla let her finish, then rose and sat back on her heels. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, then angrily rubbed the tears from her face. Slight movement in the dim light caught her eye, and she looked over to see Lavergne masturbating as she watched them.

Barbara fell onto her side, sobbing with shame and helplessness, just as she did every time they fucked. Karla usually moved her into a scissoring position so she could make herself come, but this time she had no desire to do so. Karla wondered what the woman's life had been like; sometimes she was sure Barbara was a lesbian, but other times the woman was so clumsy and awkward that it seemed she could only be straight. But questions got no answers, so Karla quit asking.

Karla continued to meet Lavergne's eyes as the black woman stroked herself harder and faster. Lavergne came with a long, grunting moan, then closed her eyes and gasped for breath.

Karla got to her feet. She was suddenly filled with revulsion, and rage, at the G'Oran for what they'd done to them all, and at herself for what she'd become. She pushed the curtain aside and looked out into the dusk-like common area. Hundreds of human women removed from their societies and reduced to the animalistic existence of milking and fucking, and that was just at this facility. She should be serving on her ship, returning to Sarah every night, advancing her career, not standing naked and flop-titted in a room with two strangers.

She looked back over her shoulder at Lavergne. "I understand your plan. We start tomorrow."

Lavergne nodded. "Tomorrow."