The Pasture in Space - Revolution

Right now, her head burned, but Bella had stopped her useless struggle.

Arousal.

Disaster had been averted with Gwendolyn using her powers to escape the consequences. But she vowed silently that she would never again let her own desires interfere with the care of her pasture.

5

Several cycles passed before Gwendolyn was again summoned into the director's office.

"You were right," Violet said, as Gwendolyn entered her quarters.

"What?"

"About the nature of our resistance," Violet said. "I was overeager. For so many rotations I have been stifling myself, working subtly to carve out cautious improvements for our wellbeing. I was too ready to gamble it all away on an open rebellion"

"In a way, I thought it sounded so passionate," Gwendolyn said.

"Hardly," Violet scoffed. "It was rash and purposeless. Only a despot would desire to rule over the ashes of the world. Forgive me, at my age direct action becomes more and more tempting. I do not know how many rotations I have left."

"None of us do..." Gwendolyn said quietly.

"True enough, though I have created a number of enemies. If you permit it, I am now prepared to suggest a more measured use of your powers.

"Mistress-"

"Violet," She corrected. "But only in private."

"Violet, I think I would have gone along with whatever plan. I..."

"Stop," Violet said, waving her off. "I understand. This is your first. And I... appreciate the sentiment. I was with someone once. It clouded my judgement. It nearly ruined everything I tried to build. And it ended... very poorly."

"What happened to her?"

"You would truly have to test your powers to find out," Violet said sharply.

"I won't - I wouldn't..."

Violet waved her off.

"My point is, while I don't know that I can stop our other interactions, we must be cautious. Your telepathic abilities aside, I want you as much as you want me. But keep your feelings apart for this discussion."

Gwendolyn nodded unconvincingly.

"I know I intimidate you. I intimidate everyone; its intentional. But I can be wrong. And if you can't speak up when I am, we're fucked. You're the only one I can trust."

"What about the other milk maids?"

"Especially the other milk maids," Violet said. "Rigel seems particularly attuned to the time we are spending together - do not worry - I have prepared a method to address this. Just be critical like you were during our last meeting."

"Okay. I'll try."

"Epsilon Seven operates through a tremendously well-organized command economy. Currently there are eight members on the Overseer's Council, 13 milk maids, and their Supervisor. The rest of the roughly 10,000 inhabitants are workers."

"What about the women?" Gwendolyn asked. "If each pasture has the same number as mine, that makes less than 15 percent of the population is producing milk."

Violet nodded.

"Before the milk maids, the liquid was considered more of a luxury than a staple," Violet said. "There was a high mortality rate among workers, but it was worse for the women. Many are not psychologically suited to survive. Nor is the current system sustainable, despite individual gains. The real numbers are ruthlessly suppressed, but we may be down to less than 30 percent of our original inhabitants."

"No..."

"Possibly more. I am making some extrapolations about the excess areas. We have not needed to build any of the new pastures - rooms outside the hub are readily available, though most are in various states of disrepair."

"So what do we do?"

"As little as possible," Violet said. "There is an old myth about an asteroid headed straight for a human settlement. The settlers initially tried every way stop to the rock, sending projectiles, explosives, anything to disintegrate the asteroid before it came crashing into their planet. They solved their problem by sending out a ship and using its thrusters to slowly nudge the asteroid into another orbit."

"I'm not sure I'm following."

"Say we went with my original thought and killed the overseer. We'd have to convince the male workers to follow my directives. And to be candid, they are more likely to rape me or send me out to the creature."

"I wouldn't let that happen," Gwendolyn said fiercely.

"I know," Violet said, allowing herself a small smile. "Here's the problem though. You kill them, maybe not everyone but enough workers, and we starve. The milk supplements calorie rich crops. Most of the hucows are useless as laborers. Their minds and bodies are gone. And there's even less service units and breeders - not that the pregnant ones would be much good. "

"I wouldn't need to kill many."

"Can you make them work as hard? Knowing they are always entitled to any sexual desire produces tremendous effects on their work ethic."

"I could control them."

"Seven thousand men?"

"So.. so what do we do?"

"As little as possible. We nudge."

"How?"

"We do not need to be in control openly when there is an apparatus we can use. Focus your abilities on the eight men on the council, and we can incrementally start changing course."

"What would we even do?"

"Many things," Violet said. "Actually enforce the rules against unregulated sexual behavior. Restrict the selection of service units. Ultimately even abolish the hucow practice entirely in exchange for more humane methods of milking. We'd have to go slow, but there would be an advantage in hiding behind the ruling caste as we changed the culture."

"Okay, I agree with you. So how do we get me in the same room as the Overseer? It's not like he takes appointments."

"Only one way," Violet grimaced. "Milk."

"You want me to..."

Gwendolyn's mind went to those bars, primitive stockades that held hundreds of girls prisoner, enslaved, their bodies betraying them with every sexual sensation. She thought of herself strapped up, imprisoned, unable to do anything but orgasm as her breasts pumped out milk by the liter.

"No," She shook her head.

"I know," Violet said. "But it's the only way. The council keeps their own supply of milk, fermented for their own particular pleasure. If we infect the supply..."

"I see what you're saying," Gwendolyn said shaking. "I don't know if I can..."

"I know," Violet held her hand. "But it may be the only way. To exert your control over such a distance..."

"Will it even work? Shouldn't we try it first?"

"How?"

"The milk maids," Gwendolyn said. "I have an idea."

6

"Our sheer existence on Epsilon Seven predicated on our production," Violet began. "Each of you is as essential to the process as the pumps. You each serve the same function."

Violet Nall spoke to the room full of milk maids, all 13 standing at attention in their identical, shimmering silver uniforms. She had an plastisteel crop in her hand, a blunt instrument with hardened cloth on the end used to discipline hucows when necessary without permanently damaging them.

She struck the spanking instrument against her palm when she wanted to make her point.

"I do my best to protect each of you. But without a constant flow of production, there is little that I can do. Please access the data from the last quarter-rotation."

The data had been faked, inserted by Violet to show the numbers she need to justify this demonstration.

"Rigel can you please tell everyone who produced the lowest level?"

Rigel was one of the more experienced milk maids. She had dark, jet black hair always done up into a ponytail. She was shorter than Gwendolyn, sharing the same petite body as the rest of the milk maids. Her breasts were even a little smaller, barely noticeable in her tight fitting uniform. The rest of the milk maids knew her as a humorless, social climber, always attempting to innovate and elevate herself above her peers.

Her latest endeavor had ended in another failure, leaving her with the least productive pasture, before Gwendolyn had been moved to the bottom.

"The new girl - I mean, Gwendolyn, mistress."

"Gwendolyn, your uniform!"

"What?" She said, her voice shaking.

This had all been planned, Violet had even injected the cocktail of prolactin and hormones into her buttocks hours earlier. Even so, there was something different about discussing a plan and stripping naked in front of the room. Nervously, Gwendolyn pulled down the revealing outfit. She handed over her uniform to Violet, who looked over her naked, nubile body as though seeing it for the first time.

Violet paced around the younger girl, as if deliberating.

Her nipples hardened almost instantly against the cold air of the chamber. She stood shivering, her arms clenched against the side of her ass. She tried to swallow and found she couldn't. The other milk maids reacted in different ways, some stared, other tried to avert their eyes, only Rigel met her gaze.

"Rigel, would you please remove this sheet here?"

Underneath, as planned, stood a rudimentary milking machine, the initial prototype Violet designed for the pasture expansion. It looked like half of a plastic bubble with a long pole stuck through the middle. On it rested twin appendages, solid phallic shaped devices primarily designed for pleasure. Towards the middle of the pole, twin hoses dangled menacingly, ending in two suction cups.

"Please attach the restraints."

Gwendolyn's hands were forced together by Rigel, who shook as she hooked the cuffs together. The restraints could slide up and down the pole, but prevented her from running. Another pair went around her ankles, immobilizing her.

"I know you are new," Violet said to Gwendolyn. "So I will not throw you out the airlock yet."

Even though she knew it to be a show, Gwendolyn still teared up as she nodded her assent. Violet grabbed her roughly, lowering her onto the twin didlos. These were hard, unyielding, their rubber-like exterior rammed into each of her holes. She let out a loud cry, wailing as the machine turned on, the toys rotating inside of her. It was as though her sexuality had been turned against her, the pleasure mixing precisely with the pain, giving pussy just enough excitement to force her towards a purpose.

She knew exactly how her livestock felt.

Only worse, she could hear the murmurs of the milk maids as they watched in shock as Violet attached the small suction cups to her tender nipples. The sensation was like having her areolas twisted and pulled. Despite herself, she found her body betraying every sense of dignity. She started to ride up and down, bouncing up and down as much as she could against the twin dildos, her desperation on full display in front of the staff.

"How does that feel?"

"It hurts..." Gwendolyn groans.

"You don't have the benefit of the drugs or the years of solitude. Tell us, where does it hurt?"

"My... oh fuck... "

The suction had started, her breasts swelled, seeming to grow a size or two, itching and aching as the first few drops of liquid were forcibly pulled out of her mammaries.

Violet slapped her crop across her ass, the imprint leaving a red mark stamped across her left cheek. "Where does it hurt?"

"My ass!" Gwendolyn said.

"Where else!"

SMACK!

SMACK!

SMACK!

She was weeping now, tears flowing down her face. This wasn't part of their plan. And though part of her knew this was all for show, the violent debasement of her humanity by her lover broke her completely. The milk started to flow with some frequency out of her nipples and into the container at Violet's feet. She was close to weeping, almost willing to throw herself on the mercy of her passion.

Only she couldn't. She knew she had to take it.

SMACK!

"What else hurts?"

"My tits!" She screamed. "My tits hurt! Please, make it stop! Please!

SMACK!

"Let this be a lesson to each of you. You will produce milk - one way or the other."

"My pussy, it's too much!" Gwendnoly begged. "It's too intense. Please, please, I'll get you more milk. Please!"

"Of course, stimulating their pussies increases the rate of production. We all know that.."

"FUCK! FUCK!" Gwendolyn screamed.

The build-up had finished, and now her body truly betrayed her. As the twin toys vibrated and worked their way into her, her cunt capitulated to the relentless assault. Her restraints clanged against the poles, her screams echoing off the wall. She lost control, her mind completely possessed by the burning pleasure on in between either side of her legs. Gwendolyn let out another wail, her breasts now numb to their torture.

"I'm cumming!" She yelled. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

Only the sensation never stopped. It wasn't like masturbating or with Violet. She stayed in the throes of her orgasm; her body never able to enter the refractory period. Her eyes rolled back, her body still clattering against the pole as she continued deriving the same sensation without the satisfaction. It was as though her body still stayed in the moment of climax indefinitely, refusing to relax.

The pleasure turned to pain, then back to pleasure, going round and round her body as nearly a liter of milk poured out of her body.

Violet looked down at her, and for second, gave a glance of pity. Tears ran down Gwendolyn eyes, muddying her gorgeous face. Her platinum blonde hair clung to her face with perspiration, her eyes rolled back, her voice begging, pleading for the end.

"I'm still cumming..." She groaned. "I can't stop cumming. I.. I... FUCK!"

She moved forward

Another spasm richoted through her body. Her neck seemed to lose control, sending her head back and forth. Involuntarily, she rode the two dildos, the muscles in her pussy clenching, grinding out a frantic attempt at release. She no longer experienced anything other than the orgasm, the dopamine in her brain had been turned against her. Every sensory system had been overloaded, every neuron screaming the same incessant message.

It was torture.

She could no longer cry.

"Violet..." Gwendolyn forget herself, now ready to betray anything to make it stop. "Please Violet, I can't-"

"This is why we gag our cows..." Violet said. "I guess this will have to do."

The pole stopped at around her head, allowing Violet to pull her face forward. With a grim thought, Gwendolyn realized that this was an intended part of the design. The mistress lifted her uniform, shoving her pussy into the poor girl's mouth. She ground her pussy against her mouth, not really for pleasure, only trying to silence the suffering girl.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," Violet said, risking the whisper.

For her part, Gwendolyn tried. Her tongue gave her some element of focus, distracting her from the two dicks forcing their way into her body. Her whole waist area felt as one, a sensual soreness that throbbed with every wave of the continual orgasm. She put everything into pleasing Violet, convinced that this would save her.

She lapped hungrily at Violet's clit, her face buried in the other woman's sweet sex. She licked up and down, right and left, in circles, every way that she could possibly imagine. And after a few minutes, she felt the strong hands on the back of her head, forcing her to follow a particular pattern.

Until Violet shook against her, her body climaxing against Gwendolyn's face. Only she didn't stop, even as the tingling in her clitoris became unpleasant.

Violet needed to keep her quiet. And if her lover could take it...

The milk continued to flow.

After an eternity, the Violet finally hit the button on her v-screen, ending the relentless violation. As bad as the build-up had been, the ultimate release was almost worth it.

Her whole body almost expanded, her entire consciousness gone except for the expression of unbridled, unrestrained pleasure. She blinked, her irises empty of herself for another moment as the last few vestiges of pleasure radiated from her vagina. Then, aching, she collapsed, her body doubled over in relief.

It took Rigel and Violet together to lift her deadened muscles up and off the toys. Even then, she slumped onto the floor, laying limply on her side. Looking ahead, she could see the metallic container in front of her filled with over a liter of milk. Her eyes fluttered, barely able to concentrate. Her legs kept spasming, unable to stay together after so much relentless pounding.

"From today forward," Violet said, passing the container to Rigel. "The lowest producing milk maid will make our milk ration for the day."

Wordlessly, Violet provided each of her milk maids with cups, barely more than thimbles designed to savor the treat. Rigel followed behind her with the container, awkwardly pouring out enough for each of them, before sitting down herself.

"Well drink up!" Violet said. "Gwendolyn worked hard to give us all a treat from her teats."

Each of the girls seemed to have the same curdled expression on their face. Difficult as life could be on the asteroid, every one of them shared a sense of camaraderie that made partaking all the more painful. Still, no one dared openly defy Violet Nall. Slowly, each made sure to swallow every drop.

Except for one, unnoticed in her service of the tiny saucers.

Violet leaned over Gwendolyn, her body limp and shivering against the cold plastisteel floor.

"I'm sorry," She whispered. "You need to do it now or else it was all for nothing."

Gwendolyn's hand clutched her burning cunt, as if trying to put out an internal fire. It wasn't out of desire, she rubbed herself absently, trying to stop herself from still feeling the apparatus inside of her.

MASTURBATE!

Her head nearly split in two; the pain was almost unbearable. She writhed around, her fingers now working inside of her pussy, trying to distract from the feeling that her brain was expanding, stretching out her temples. She thought she might burst. That her gray matter might leak out of her ears, the thought coursing out of every orifice.

MASTURBATE!

She closed her eyes shut, not really able to feel the fingers inserted in her pussy.

Violet looked out at the milk maids, seeing for both, watching them reach their hands in between their legs as they stood at attention. She cocked her head, knowing and yet somehow not expecting such a show. Without any sense of shame, each of the girls hiked up their skirts, presenting their pussies to her.

Mindlessly, they all mastrubated, each of the dozen small to medium chested milk maids joined Gwendolyn in her pursuit, making themselves cum nearly simultaneously. One after the other, each girl riveted up and down on her finger, her mouth opening in a wordless cry of pleasure as she orgasmed right there, in full sight of Violet, as though their Supervisor simply wasn't there.

Only after orgasming did any sense of propriety return. Their beautiful faces, first vacant and void with an empty hollow stare, returned to their full brightness, utterly humiliated at the group spectacle. One by one, the girls smoothed down their skirts, blushing, hiding their faces in their hands, collapsing on the floor. One girl even began weeping, convinced she would be sent out the airlock.

Last, by a few seconds was Rigel, who needed to bear down on both fingers to make it happen. Her mind, unlike the others, raced with a primitive sort of panic. Her jet back hair came undone over her face as she forced herself to climax. She didn't know why, but Rigel knew better than to deviate from the herd.

She pushed her body to the breaking point, her orgasm overtaking her only seconds before someone might have noticed her body was out of step with the others.

Violet had made one mistake.

She hadn't seen Rigel pretend to pour her own glass.

"I'm not sure what came over... all of you," Violet said. "I will conclude this is an act of mutual support for Gwendolyn, rather than an open challenge to my authority. But it would be best to remain professional for the rest of this meeting. Perhaps it would be best to forget this unfortunate incident."