Milk, Made

A Short Story By D.

***

The first time she saw it, she laughed.

Casey was walking through the city, her heavy book bag over her shoulder, when she looked across the street and saw the sign: MILK BAR. It was printed in a thick serif font, possibly Rockwell. The windows seemed tinted, perhaps for the same reason someone started marketing opaque milk bottles.

As a woman who consumed neither alcohol nor caffeine, she was tickled by the idea of a bar for her preferred beverage. The smell of coffee tempted her sometimes, but every new coffee drinker had to thin the harsh brew with milk anyway, so... why not just drink the milk? The only caffeine that passed her lips was in the form of coffee ice cream or the occasional Ghirardelli chocolate square.

Casey took a picture of the exterior of the MILK BAR for the sake of remembering this place. She thought better of posting the amusing sign to social media before she even went inside. Who knew what actually went on in there?

She put her phone back in her purse and went about her day.

***

Casey passed the MILK BAR a few more times, once or twice a week as her work duties took her down this street again. A bar where they served many kinds of milk... or maybe many beverages that used good old-fashioned cow milk as a base. Is this just a bar that serves milkshakes, with checkerboard tile on the floor, red stools mounted to the floor, and a clean-shaven man in a paper hat scooping ice cream?

There was a LOT of retro kitsch in this town. Maybe that really was what was inside.

It was the fifth time she approached this shop that she was finally on the right side of the street and free of the burden of her book bag. It was her day off, no longer being carried past this location on pressing business. She was dressed in a blue camisole under her faux-leather jacket, mid-length skirt and sensible shoes.

She walked up the few concrete steps and noticed the door was ajar, maybe by an inch. From within, she heard something she wasn't expecting. It sounded like moaning, a chorus of voices all groaning. But what hit her first was a familiar aroma coming from inside.

Casey leaned away from the door while still gripping the handle. The air from inside had a familiar scent, and even a familiar humidity.

This bar smelled like... semen.

As she leaned back, one of her heels slipped off the step and she stumbled back, pulling the door open all the way, letting the sunlight and some fresh air into the place. Casey regained her footing and was about to turn away, but someone within called out to her.

"Come in!" The voice said.

Casey cleared her throat as she brushed a wrinkle out of her skirt. Feeling a little too meek to run away, she stepped inside.

What she saw inside was not at all what she expected.

There was a 'bar' against the left wall, with stools affixed to the floor, and women seated in each seat. But the stools were almost completely against the wall, each of the women pressed right against it. The 'bar' didn't have anywhere for the bartender to stand. It was just a wall... with a gauge like a gas meter in front of each seat.

There was a sudden ding. One woman's gauge had filled into the red zone. She pulled herself off her seat... and from the wall. Inch after inch of shiny, exhausted cock emerged from a portal directly in front of the stool, and the weary woman staggered to a comfortable looking chair in front of the tinted glass. Two assistants were upon her very quickly, one with a washcloth, and one...

With a Collins glass of orange juice.

Casey was beginning to suspect there was no milk to be had in this establishment at all.

"I could've kept going." The woman who had vacated her seat on the line protested as the assistant cleaned her cock with the washcloth.

"You hit the limit. Just relax for a while and we'll let you back on." Said the woman who first greeted Casey. She wore a black blazer and skirt. She spoke with a faint Spanish accent, clearly someone who was comfortable with both English and Spanish. She had black hair and tanned skin, with dark, wide eyes that intimidated Casey when they fell on her.

"Welcome to the bar." The woman returned her focus to Casey. "I'm Teresa, but everyone calls me Tess."

Casey turned around to the door, which was still ajar by an inch. She pulled it in, but the door wouldn't close all the way.

"Door won't close." She mumbled, looking at the top and bottom of the doorway for the obstruction, perhaps a tiny stone lodged somewhere in the door frame.

"I know. It lets the funk out." Tess grinned. "Is this your first time at the bar?"

"What on Earth is this place?"

"See that hole in the wall?" She pointed to the seat vacated by the person relaxing in the chair. The portal was entirely black; nothing on the other side could be seen. "If you've got something to put in there, the machine will do the work. If you've got something to give us, we keep it and bottle it for a grateful public."

Something to put in there... Casey started to flush.

"Do you have something you'd like to put in there, honey?" Tess leaned in.

Casey reached under her skirt and freed herself from her strained panties. Her erect cock now stood up and out of her skirt, nearly reaching the underside of her breasts.

"What's your name?"

Casey blushed harder. Pulling her cock out before introducing herself might have been a faux pas. "I'm Casey."

"What do you do?"

"I'm an assistant librarian. I help deliver books to the elderly and other housebound. That's what brought me by this place."

"Are you a secret nymphomaniac, like all librarians?"

"I guess." She nodded.

"If you're in need of release, just take a seat and we'll make you feel better."

"Do I need to pay?"

"Darling, you'll be donating something to US. We wouldn't dream of taking anything else from you."

Tess put her hand on Casey's shoulder and turned them towards the bay of seats. Someone had already found the empty bay and sat down, grabbing the woman next to her and making out with her, her fingers sinking into her afro.

"Whoops, we're at capacity." Tess turned them back around. "You'll have to wait for a bay to open."

"Are they a couple?" Casey watched the two women slide their tongues against each other's lips and face.

"I don't think so. They've not been in at the same time before today." Tess answered.

"What about that one?" Casey pointed to a lone machine with a single seat and hole, separated from the rest. It looked a little more advanced than the other ones, with dials on the face and accents of stainless steel. The seat reminded her of one from an exercise bike, rather than a round stool. There was a red button in the center and a similarly colored pad mounted at roughly eye-level.

"Oh, that's not really for beginners." Tess said.

"I'll try it."

"Alright, if you think you can handle it..."

Casey moved up to the solo machine. It had a built-in seat with a rest in the center for the cock, if it weren't pushed all the way into the aperture. Rather than a gauge, it had a number of dials with tiny text delineating their function.

"Take a seat." Tess gestured to it. "Though to sit properly, you'll have to take your panties off."

Casey pushed her panties to the floor. Despite the fact that her erection had been standing out of her skirt for all to see, actually removing her underwear was still a bit embarrassing. Casey sat at the machine, one leg on each side of the partition, and hung her panties on a small coat hook on the device.

"We joke that this is our single-malt extractor." Tess said. "The output of the other machines get mixed up and homogenized. Here... it will not be mixed. It will be your pure semen and nothing else. Whatever the flavor ends up is entirely up to you."

She wasn't sure she wanted her 'flavor' so tightly scrutinized. But she was already sitting down, so she slid her stool along the track on the machine, slipping her cock into the wide aperture of the portal in the wall. The portal was surrounded by the familiar rubbery nubs of the inside of a pocket pussy. Less familiar was the sensation as the portal shrunk like an iris closing, until it wrapped snugly around her cock.

Casey gasped.

"Don't be afraid. This machine adjusts automatically to your personal circumference." Tess placed her hand on Casey's shoulder to comfort her. "The big red button is the automatic shut-off, for if your hair gets caught in something, or you just can't stand it anymore. These dials control things like pressure, temperature, rest period duration, et cetera. But for a beginner, I think you should set it to Automatic."

Tess flipped a switch, and several of the dials before her spun into a predetermined position, like the sliders on a mixing board. Casey put her hands on the two soft grips at each end of the dials and braced herself.

"Have a fun ride." Tess tapped her shoulder again before wandering off.

The machine made three beeps, one second apart, before activating.

Casey was expecting something like a vacuum turning on, nothing but harsh yet enjoyable negative pressure. Instead, the device started to apply gentle pressure to her cock like a sine wave, gently wringing precum out of the tip. The end of the chamber, where the head of her cock was resting seemed to move independently of the rest of the hole, as it turned left and right around her head, the little nubs brushing her tip like a thousand soft fingertips.

Casey tensed and held her breath. It wasn't necessarily that this was the most pleasurable thing she'd ever experienced. But a mouth or tongue could not move in such ways. Neither could her assortment of pocket pussies. "Assortment" was perhaps an exaggeration; she never owned more than two at a time, and one was always the replacement for another that had started to rip. No manufacturer of masturbatory aid had ever considered someone as large as her.

This machine, however... was. It was like they had expected this moment.

The chamber of the aperture started to turn, one half moving clockwise, the other counter-clockwise, and back again, similar to two hands turning in the motion used to crank a large pepper mill. Then each of these halves split into many more pieces, until maybe ten different rings were twisting and pressing on her cock in random intervals.

Then, the suction started. Gently, and in intervals lasting only a few seconds. From within the tickling fingers, a warm liquid started to appear and paint her cock. It was obvious now. It was imitating the feeling of fellatio, right down to warm saliva.

Casey didn't want to ejaculate so fast. She'd hoped to hold back and show how she was in control of herself. But the sensation was indescribable. Her heart thumping, moaning and gritting her teeth, the machine started to suck more vigorously, with less of an interval between robotic 'breaths.'

She could hold back no longer, and cried out as she released herself into the machine. Her seed fully released, the machine slowed its teasing. Even the spinning gentle fingers decelerated to a distinterested crawl.

Casey finally learned what the red pad on the wall before her was: it was a forehead rest, as she set her head down. For maybe a minute, the machine barely moved, and neither did she. Had the greatest orgasm of her life really come from a machine? Those women born without cocks might say the same thing, depending on the strength of their vibrator.

The moment Casey lifted her head off the forehead rest, the machine whirred to life again. She set her head back down on the pad, in case it was a pressure switch that would shut off the machine. The machine stubbornly continued to gently suck her cock, the hundreds of fingers swirling in circles like two enthusiastic hands wringing back and forth.

The shaft started to buzz gently, like a vibrating phone left on a desk. Constant vibration would often lead to that pins-and-needles feeling. This delicate additional stimuli caused her roll her head about and moan loudly.

The tip that covered the tip started buzzing as it began to vibrate intermittently, random intervals of random lengths at random strengths. Even if Casey wanted to hold back, to steel herself, she couldn't predict when this machine would make it very hard to do so.

Soon, the machine grew impatient with her and turned up the gas, sucking and buzzing her to her second howling orgasm. Casey was relieved of more ejaculate, spraying it into the chambers of the machine.

Casey was given less time to recover this time, and the machine started sucking and buzzing harder than it had before, even at its peak. She felt she might crush the soft grips in her hands. She wanted to bash this thoughtless machine and tell it she was empty, and there would be no more donations today.

Until she crested and reached another unbelievable orgasm. It felt like even more than the first two, but it was hard to tell when not deposited into a towel or scattered over a pair of graciously provided breasts.

The machine seemed to turn itself off completely now. She leaned on the console before her limply, waiting for her heart to slow down before deciding whether she had contributed enough.

At the moment she felt that she might be up for another round, the machine started again. It sucked and teased her cock gently, about the same intensity as the first round. It was still enough to make her shudder and twitch in pleasure. From within the machine, there was a new blast of warm lubricating liquid spread across her cock.

Except it wasn't the same stuff. This one reacted with the original lubricant and inspired a warm, tingling sensation. This was the second half of a "Yours and Mine" lubricant combination, and this machine had just slathered it all over her sensitive cock.

She kicked and dug her feet against the floor until one of her shoes came free. The next orgasm went through her before she could even think to resist. The machine slowed, then sped up again, just as it had before. Three more orgasms came this way, each one harder and more pleasurable than the last.

The machine slowed and allowed Casey to catch her breath, but only just. The machine started up again, and Casey wondered what new tricks this devious machine had in store for her.

The entire seat she sat on started to vibrate. Just for a few seconds at a time, but quite sternly, the chair shook like a vibrating wand, shaking her entire undercarriage. The quaking rattled her balls as they hung between the stool and the wall. The stool slowly shook harder and for longer intervals...

Until it stopped. For twenty seconds, the seat was perfectly still as the chamber rolled around delicately.

Casey ground herself against the featureless surface of the seat, rolling herself back and forth, begging the machine to continue. She knew that she had more to give, more tear-shedding orgasms to deliver. Why had this machine suddenly decided to be so neglectful, so cruel?

After some indecent promises of future sexual favors where Casey perhaps forgot she was talking to a machine, the vibration resumed with great vigor, shaking one fresh orgasm from her, then another, and a third without the benefit of a rest period.

Leaning on the forehead rest, a single drop of sweat raced down her nose and fell to the console. She swallowed involuntarily and sat back up.

And the machine turned on again, sucking and twisting against her sensitive cock and buzzing the whole seat like the functional end of a huge Hitachi vibration wand.

The seat stopped shaking, and something emerged from it, a small bulb-like protrusion that reached upwards, located and delicately entered Casey's ass. She yelped as the thing traveled up inside her until it reached the proper depth. The bulb swelled and placed pressure on Casey's prostate, then released it. The probe pulled back a few inches, then back inside.

Casey barely had the will to gasp. She'd never had anything up there, not even a curious finger. Now, there was something—she could not see what—gently sliding in and out of her rear. Why had she waited until a thoughtless automaton gave it a shot, rocking her back and forth with its digital finger?

The bulb grew and grew. She imagined it being the size of an apple, but it wasn't even an inch wide. It just felt bigger on the inside. Once Casey came again, the bulb shrunk... and slowly grew again, as the stool shook and the portal wrung her cock mercilessly.

Suddenly, the bulb released something into her nethers. Probably a liquid, maybe as little as a tablespoon. She felt it for a moment, and it was gone. Absorbed, evaporated, transmuted... who knew?

She didn't know what it was. But she knew the effect. It was the same effect as anything else this infernal contraption: to make her even more horny, to levels she had never dreamed of. If she thought her semi-virginal ass was sensitive before... well, it was. But now, it was so sensitive, making her orgasm with gentle pressure on the prostate was easier than squeezing a plastic bottle of ketchup at a diner. Every time the bulb so much as gently glanced against her insides as it slid in and out, it sent her into paroxysms of ecstasy.

Casey rolled her head back, staring bleary-eyed at the featureless ceiling. Every time the particular chorus of sexual stimulation was getting tedious, the machine changed it up. It slowed down when she needed a moment's reprieve. It sped up when she craved release. It slowed its vibrations before numbness could set in. It was as if this machine was reading her thoughts. No, it was faster than her thoughts. It changed its technique before she ever consciously thought about it.

This was it. This was everything she wanted. The frustrations and trivialities of life melted away as she had nearly constant orgasms into the belly of this insatiable device. Heart pounding in her head like a timpani, entire body engulfed in a fever, clothes torn away from her hot flesh... she never, ever wanted it to end. She would never reach the bottom of this pit, and she would never run out of searing hot semen to contribute.

Until she did.

The machine seemed to know better than to suck on an empty teat. Somehow, it knew she'd given all she could. Casey released the grips and leaned back. The machine stopped all stimulation, the room filled with silence like after an inappropriate joke at Thanksgiving. The machine released its sucker-like grip on her cock, the only thing keeping her upright, and she tumbled off the seat and into the embrace of several staff members.

Casey was dragged off to a big comfy chair, where it took her a few minutes to remember who and where she was. There were a few women around her, washing the sweat and speckled lube from her body with wet washcloths, with a few other fanning her moist skin dry with folding handheld fans. It took a few minutes more how to operate a straw to sip some lovely whole milk, held patiently by yet another volunteer. She normally bought 2% milk for her drinking and cereal, but she was parched enough to drink half-and-half.

After a few minutes, Casey's mind fully returned to her, as if waking from a deep sleep and remembering only the last few events of what was surely a much longer dream, fully refreshed and energized. She yawned and stretched her arms outward, only for them to fall back onto her bare thighs.

Only then did she remember that she had wriggled out of all of her clothing while attached to the machine. She wore only a single sock... and not where it would provide her any privacy.

Casey gasped and clapped her arm across her breasts and one hand over her cock. The confused staff, all women, were now looking at her, probably because she had gasped so loudly. Her cheeks were bright red as she was forced to remove her other hand from her breasts to try to keep her cock tucked between her thighs. The women kept staring, but did not move.