Pauline - Festival Milk Cow

This story contains massive breasts, lactation, slight bondage and slight reluctance.

Second part of Festival Milk Truck, not in the exact same tone but expect another part to this storyline. Thank you for your appreciation of the stories I write - expect more!

*****

As the dark sky fell on the Blissful Nights Festival, new lights replaced the sun rays. Neon lights and tiki torches pointed out tent encampments and odd trails through the spacious forest. The primary music stage always had a large audience over the large open hills, and the smaller stages around the forest also gathered crowds. People walked out of the forest's edge to see concessions and most of the cars, and walked back in to party with friends.

Among the camping lots stood Conor and Pauline's tent right next to her red pickup truck. Inside, Conor watched Pauline reposition a cow-eared headband in her hair. The rest of her body was stretching out a cow print bikini, her feet in cowgirl boots.

"What do you think?" she looked herself over.

"Like you're having fun."

She looked back at him with a smile, "This certainly isn't how I thought today would go. I was half expecting you to keep me in the box all day."

"No. I thought enjoying the festival would be more fun. Just fun enough to make it convenient not to leave you sitting in a box."

She nudged his arm with playful judgement. He pat her ass, making her giggle. Then Conor looked at his phone.

"About time to head back out. You ready?" he asked.

Pauline peaked out the tent, overseeing the shadowy trees surrounding them. Nobody saw her but plenty of festival attendants traveled outside their wooded little cove. During the day they'd been told just around now, 10pm, "ol' Polly"'d be around again and ready to give more milk.

She retreated back inside, crossing her arms over her chest, discomforted. "Y'know I'm not so sure bout this now."

Conor looked away with a puzzled face, analyzing his own choices. He wasn't sure if something he'd said had put her off, but so far today was going great. Worry filled his mind, seeing Pauline's uncertainty.

"If something's wrong we can just drive home. You want that?"

"I'm not sure..." Pauline cut herself off, "Well, with earlier, I had my boobs stickin out the box, right? Fun start to an adventure, unprompted, you took care of the set up, wonderful bout a milkin ol' Polly, right?"

"You liked the accent?" Conor asked.

"It worked, made me giggle to myself for sure. But what's different now is that... you're asking me to walk with you out into the crowd, right? Not just leave my tits out, sitting in a box, you want me to actually talk with people and stuff during this?"

The night event was planned by Conor, but this time Pauline could give some more input. Pauline would walk out to meet the inevitable crowd and look them in the face as they squeezed and sucked her tits dry. It was a fun and logical progression from that morning, and initially they were both onboard. Now, obviously, Pauline had second thoughts.

"I'm just nervous about showing my face to people, y'know? Having that personal experience, like, what if they come out to my farm?!"

"Well first of all, no offense but most people who know you know you by those very boobs you showed everybody earlier today."

"You showed people earlier today." she gave him a cheeky smile.

That smile made Conor more confident Pauline was willing to be persuaded and so he continued, "Secondly you don't have to have any conversations with anybody, you just get to see the people usin your boobs. If we stick with the cow bit, you can just 'Moo' whenever people ask you questions."

Conor's words had reassured Pauline, but not convinced her. She knew from previous experience he found Pauline taking on a passive cow persona in cow print arousing, and his points about just being a little closer to the action felt great. But this seemed pretty intense, and instead of the excitement and lack of control in waking up stuck in the box, she was agreeing to walk around and serve people milk out her mams.

"I'm still not sure. We can still just drive home you said? Maybe that'd be better."

Conor nodded, a little disappointed. He still understood exactly why she felt nervous - it wasn't like he was just hanging his dick out to the crowd and saying "do as you please". He gave her back the keys to her truck.

"You wanna get dressed and head home, that's totally fine."

She took the keys, but pressed closer to Conor first. Her massive breasts felt firm and heavy above his pelvis, her short stature putting her chest at the perfect height. She gave him a teasing shoulder wiggle, letting each engorged breast press and deform against his hips. Pauline's words came drenched in sexual energy, "I didn't mean I was done being your milk cow. My tits are still full, milking or not."

Pauline gave him a seductive wink and peaked out the tent. Her expression turned to shock; right outside their tent, tens of young and drugged men and women had coalesced into another crowd. The volume of glow in the dark paraphernalia alongside the light in the tent illuminated Pauline, highlighting her cow print clad tits.

Multiple festival attendees noticed, but one spoke above the passive chatter. "Hey look!" was the simple but terrifying choice of words, ones Pauline wasn't ready to react to. Many heads turned to see Pauline in all her skimpy, freckled glory. They didn't rush her, but the crowd moved into an arc surrounding the exit of the tent. Pauline almost fell into a panic attack at the shifting people, but understood they weren't hostile. If anything, they were just waiting on her.

Pauline looked behind her shoulder, "Conor" she whispered, "what do I do?!"

"You can tell them to leave," he whispered back, obscured to the crowd, "or you can give them some milk."

She gave him a disgruntled grin, "Fine, you win. Let's have some fun."

Pauline stepped further out of the tent, observing the crowd as a whole. Most of them were returning customers, but this was the first time Pauline had met them formally. She gave a confident wave of her hand to all, masking her nervousness. She was in control right now, she told herself, and this could go any way she chose. What did she want to do?

"...Moo!" she called out with a proud smile. Inside she cursed herself, feeling silly. Mooing at the crowd felt more like a panic move in her mind, and she prayed they'd just go with it.

The crowd replied with some happy cheers and polite waves back. It was an odd greeting, but one that went with her current outfit. This response surprised Pauline but she felt more confident now. They were just hungry, horny people, a crowd of inexperienced, most nearly ten years younger than her. She cleared her throat, before continuing on, thinking of how to follow up that introduction.

"Pardon me -" speaking in moos probably wouldn't go very far, "I haven't been off the farm in a while, let me say that again; hey everybody, how's the festival?"

This got an overwhelming response. Many great laughs and cheers came alongside positive reviews of the events.

"Great time!"

"A lot better seeing you!"

One particular woman stepped forward. She addressed her with a longer comment, "You made my fucking day! My camp's been drinking your milk since this morning!"

Pauline blushed, "Well to my memory I ended up feeding a lotta people earlier, glad I could help improve your meals! Hopefully I can improve your meals tonight!" with a slight pause, Pauline thought over her next action, "As a matter-o-fact let's move onto tonight's milking!"

The milking machine was still in the truck. She walked past the crowd to reach the truck bed, taking her time to leap up. Up top, she pushed the machine over to the back edge of the truck.

"Could you help bring this ol' thing down?" she called to one of the larger men. He and a few other crowd members helped Pauline lower the milking machine down, making sure she still had the two hoses in hand. At the edge of the truck, she laid flat over the edge and hung her chest down. The truck was a little cold, but Pauline did her best to ignore it. Hanging over the machine, she pushed her bikini triangles to the sides. Her massive nipples hung out, bare to the crowd before her. She reached down to turn the machine on and attached the hoses to her nipples. Milk didn't immediately pour forth, to a few crowd member's disappointment.

"I haven't been milked since this morning, so I'll have plenty to give. Line up and ready for some fresh milk. Without greedy Farmer Clements here, milk's free!"

The crowd followed her command and automated collecting her milk in their glasses. After a short time, the machine began to finally pull some milk out. It was a little slow, but the audience enjoyed taking plastic cups of milk for free. Pauline seemed pretty happy, but the pump seemed a little slow. She took a look at the settings and realized, while not at max, the pump was pulling pretty hard. The pressure was present but she just wasn't gushing milk like earlier.

Festival attendees also noticed Pauline's low milk output, but in addition they were all a bit less enthusiastic. Many of the crowd had come earlier and as good as Pauline's milk was, it was just milk. Each teat being pumped was hot, but not the same experience as earlier. An especially eager young man addressed Pauline.

"It doesn't seem to be coming out as quickly," he noted, "would you like some help massaging it out?"

Pauline tensed up, "Um!- maybe later."

After that moment, Pauline's milk flow slowed down even more. Despite the powerful pumps, her chest froze like a busted pair of printers. With the decreasing milk flow came a few displeased faces directed Pauline's way. This only made her less comfortable with the situation as a whole, and in that moment she made a critical decision.

"Oops - looks like I wasn't so full after all, my bad y'all!" she gave them a nervous giggle, "well thanks for comin' out! Hope you enjoy the festival!"

Pauline uncapped her nipples and shut the pump off. Her short legs carried her back into the tent, her hands quick to pull her bikini top back on. Outside the crowd could do little more than wait around. Many decided to just leave, and as they flowed out other fans of Pauline followed suit. Pauline sighed with relief, happy things could de-escalate so quickly. As she turned to her stuff, she realized Conor was still in the tent.

"What was that?" Conor's expression was puzzled with a hint of anger.

"W-what? I was low on milk, it turns out. I guess I just didn't get enough to eat here, not the best food for a festival huh?"

Conor cocked his head to the side, his face unchanging. "I know you too well, you're full up. What's wrong?"

Pauline struggled to find her words, feeling judged. After some interval thought, she reevaluated Conor's face. He might have been judging her a little, but if anything he seemed more disappointed. That disappointment matched the faces of the people who'd gathered to see her. Pauline subconsciously looked back and forth from Conor to the ghosts of the crowd outside.

"I- well, you know- earlier really messed with my tits, and like-" it was hard to put into words what she was feeling.

Conor grabbed her by the shoulders, "Calm down for a second. It's ok if you're not feeling it today, but it seemed like you were ok with this and then you weren't and your bothered and uncertain and I want to help you think though whatever this is. Is there a problem?"

"...yes. There's a problem."

"Ok, well where do you think it stems from?"

Pauline sat down on the wooden box from before. The cow clad farmer leaned an elbow on her chest, resting her chin in her hand. It was bizarre what just happened, how strange her milk's cut in flow and her discomfort around the crowd. She'd given better performances under less optimal situations, including this morning. Something important was off though, something she was beginning to understand.

"Well, like I said earlier it was a little odd seeing people face to face... but I've done that before, and this time 'round I had far more control. I was more willing to participate."

"Maybe not", Conor countered, "since you backed out- which is totally fine, just saying."

"I did back out, because I didn't feel comfortable. But I haven't felt comfortable when people would take me by the tits, regardless of my input... then I didn't have as much control and."

Pauline ended her sentence. Her body shot up and a look of realization spread across her freckly cheeks. She looked Conor in the eyes before her next words, Conor confused by her current mannerisms.

"I wasn't in control before, during things like Halloween or back when Gittergut raided my barn, and I accepted what was happening to me. Not that healthy, but I let myself make the best of my situation, knowing they were the pervy kinda freaks, and I was an innocent victim. Now I'm putting myself out there, and I'm the pervy kinda freak."

"You're a freak in the sheets? Isn't that a surprise." Conor gave a sarcastic reply.

Pauline rolled her eyes, smiling. "Ok sure, but it's different with you! A minute ago I was out there trying to feed people and I felt shy. At least my tits did."

She looked down at her chest. Milk dripped out, soaking part of her bikini. She pulled the bikini top to the side, seeing her milk dotted nipples. "And now I'm leaking as usual, more than when I was gettin ready to feed a crowd with my milk."

"So you're shy to crowds when you're in control? You feel wrong for being able to consent to feeding people?"

"I guess... is that wrong? I don't think that's it though, I'm not sure how I feel!"

Conor shrugged, "I'm not gonna tell you how to feel about yourself. I will say though, I was expecting a show from you and I was a little disappointed knowing you could do more."

Pauline blushed and turned her body away, conflicting emotions of pride and anger turning her curious face red. "You 'know' I could do better?"

"Hell yeah!" Conor picked up both breasts, stuffing his face between them. Pauline was pleasantly surprised, keeping eye contact with him between her boobs. "You're the one with the boobs, you can take control. Maybe not in a dominant way, but you make a great power bottom. Just have a little bit of agency in what happens, just like when we're together."

Conor pulled his head out of her tits, bringing one of her nipples close to his mouth. He licked at it, taking some of the milk beads that had built up. Pauline gave him an approving hum, her nipple replacing the milk he licked off with larger drips.

"You want your titties milked, right?"

"Yeah, that'd be neat."

"How do you want'm milked?"

"I like it when you do it..."

Conor's expression begged her to give another answer. She wasn't sure if she was really going to give into this entire event, especially after telling people to leave. Her intuition did agree with him though, that at the very least it'd be an interesting experience. He'd set this up for her, and now was the time to decide if this was what she wanted.

"...but I wouldn't mind a little help from someone else, maybe a few people."

"You sure?"

Pauline sighed, "I think so. But I might need some help motivating myself to do this."

"Sure thing, and again I love when it's just us, I just know you wanted something spicy as of recent."

Pauline gave him a cheeky smile, "Like you're not loving this."

***

Multiple chairs sat around a small fire. Those in the chairs would lean forward and light their blunts or joints or spliffs. Two familiar friends walked back in, looking a bit disappointed.

"How did it go?" one of the fire watchers called over.

The woman responded, "Cow chick got nervous and backed out. I kinda get it, but it was just a little, like, disappointing, y'know?"

"She seemed really nervous," the man with her continued, "like, she got into it, and then said 'yeah no fuck this' and ran back to her tent. She did the boobs in a box thing earlier, so I dunno wassup with her."

The pair took seats with their friends. They enjoyed smoking around the fire together, drinking Pauline's milk with some off-brand girl scout cookies. After half an hour, the camp's milk supply dried up. A few comments were made about "if only Polly, or whatever her real name was, had stuck it out for an extra glass or two". As a universal coincidence, at the strike of some clock of irony or fate, the camp noticed the vague outline of black and white by the edge of their camp. Two very large objects in particular caught their attention - massive swinging orbs outlined by white. A female voice came from the massive orbs' direction, "They're all fucking high, I'm fine. Just the test run anyways, let me do this."

One of the campers called out, "Hey dude, you lost?"

The woman in the shadows whispered "I can do this" and stepped forward. Pauline was still in her cow print swimsuit, with a cow ears headband and two cowboy boots. "Howdy y'all!" she called to the crowd, making eye contact with her previous visitors.

"Oh shit waddup!" the woman spoke back with excitement, "I thought we'd never see your cute ass again." Pauline blushed at the compliment. The crowd about the fire sat up and got closer

Pauline blushed, "Yeah, well I still need my titties milked and I was wandering around looking for Farmer Clements. You seen'm?"

The tent group moved even closer to Pauline, Pauline herself stepping further into the light. Most eyes didn't just rest on her chest, looking all around her outfit. Pauline giggled at their immediate interest and made a methodical spin to show herself off. On her return spin, the crowd's eyes were drawn to the erect nipples poking into her top. Each nub seemed to make the white sections of cow print darker, and the darkness was spreading.

"Haven't seen him," the woman spoke, walking forward, "but I don't think you got time to find him. These things look ready to burst."

That comment riled Pauline up further. The dark spots around her nipples grew faster and drops of milk formed in large beads.

"You might be right... how could I possibly drain these things though?" Pauline lifted her chest up, pointing her nipples towards the taller group's faces. Tits in hand she swung her chest side to side, making sure to point her leaky nipples at each camp member's face. Looks were exchanged between the group - now eight men and women strong - and it seemed the general consensus was 'fuck it'.

The woman from before stepped forward, moving to kneel right in front of Pauline's left tit. She rose her hands to help support Pauline's chest, quite a heavy sack of milk and meat. Her hands let Pauline's breast rest lower, nipple level with her smug lips.

"Psh... I did this earlier, milking you's easy enough."

The woman pushed her lips over Pauline's still clothed nipple. Her tongue slathered across the fabric, tickling her teat in anticipation of milk. Pauline delivered with an excited moan; the beads at her nipple's pores turned to tiny white jets. The woman's tongue slathering turned to thirsty nips into loud, smacking suckles. Her hands clung to the soft breast and pulled it closer to her face, sucking harder and harder. She finally pulled away, showing Pauline's nipple leaking like a faucet through her top. The woman put a finger under the triangular stretch of fabric, waiting on Pauline's response.

Pauline looked across the crowd, "Can y'all help milk me?"

Enthusiasm filled the encampment's tenants. Everybody was interested it seemed, all the better for Pauline. She nodded to the woman at her nipple, helping her remove the top. With both women's help Pauline's heavy chest hung lower, firm but too heavy not to sag. Nipples revealed, the crowd came in closer.