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The Milking Machine series
This series, originally featured on the Sardax member site 2004-2014, is very loosely set within a Russian prison system -a kinky Gulag maybe, where the inmates are regularly drained in the most humiliating manner possible. As a special treat I am featuring all six together-the quality of the drawing varies but never the inspiration.

“Not looking good, is it?”

“I’m sorry Ms Oksana, I really triiiiiiiiiied.Ooof..grunt..grunt..”

The milk bottle was totally consuming him. At regular five minute intervals the motor started up with a clinical whine which resonated round the efficient metallic wall casings. Then the pump would begin its merciless draining of whatever he had left within his sacs. He had been there now almost three days and couldn’t believe how he’d been transformed into a milk producer out here in this transformed Siberian gulag.

The milking was broadcast on milkingcam and relayed to the wardens’ station where it could be constantly monitored for output.

“This is only your twelfth time this morning. Why do I give you half an hour’s rest ? just so you can be thinking of pretty flowers and blue skies huh? It just won’t do. You are wasting all your body fluids on tears. Can you imagine what your body you could have done with that..another few ounces for the milk bottle, eh? “

Ms Oksana clacked her heels on the steel flooring and circled his features with the tip of her crop…slowly and sadistically.

“Too much sweat, too.”

She withdrew the crop and pushed the remote control device beneath his eyes. Maybe we need a little extra to squeeze some more out of you!

“Nooooo.I can’t take it any moooooooooooooooooooooooore!!!!”

The Milking Machine 2

Warden Oksana placed her finely woven high-denier stockings delicately on the ring encircling his swollen cock. With all the teasing skill for which her training had prepared her, she started to push and press the reinforcements up and down – infinitely slowly – and watching his tear-streamed face as he shuddered in pain under the subtle pressure. The more his cock erected the tighter it was held back by the tightness of the ring and the inflexible tubular casing which ran down from it.

Slave 20 was placed within the “dry-milker”-a fiendish device which Tatiana, the director of the facility, had prepared for their amusement. Within the tube the cock was subject to a teasing and merciless vacuum pumping from the central motor hidden deep within the masturbatorium apparatus which funnelled his fluids relentlessly down to a main collection sewer.

“Another time the tickling and caressing from my toes could bring you to an incredible ecstasy – you never knew,” she sighed in mock sympathy, then smiled sweetly, ” but here, there can be no hard cock – just suck, suck, suck. You will be drained, the way we drained you of your money, now we drain you of your semen, soon to drain you of your soul!!”

Her crisply ironed blouse creased and flattened in rhythm to the heaving of her breasts as she inhaled and drank in the power over her tormented slave…

The Milking Machine 3

Warden Sonya gazed attentively at the bizarre sight in front of her. It was certain those few small lashes had caused the ejaculation. Only the third time he had come this morning. She sighed, and wondered if he would ever make the grade.

Slave 78 was a new arrival to the Masturbatorium and so had to undergo the simple vacuum pump device to enable him to start milking in the copius quantities that the institute demanded. Huge amounts were required daily and either the quota was met by quantity or by the number of milkings.Within a few days a hormonal change started to allow more production in the gonads so as to meet the constant demands of the suction device.

The cam 6 inches from his face showed up his intense suffering onto a nearby wall-mounted monitor. The images from the cam was played in the wardens’ rest area, where sadistic eyes watched his moans and tears with intense satisfaction, the moisture running down his cheeks reflected by a similar moistening in their loins.

The Chief Milker at the Masturbatorium always gave this assignment as a challenge to one of her most promising wardens. Warden Irina had shown considerable erotic potential in her short time on duty, and so found herself in the Suspension Stable. Usually the mere sight of her slender shape in uniform was enough to generate immediate erections in all of her charges. But here she could see from their red faces that the blood had rushed down into their heads, leaving precious little for their limp members.

As Irina pondered the problem, the sight of these pathetic b**sts in their helpless suspended state caused a distinct wetness between her thighs. And that gave her the solution. Their heads were hanging at just the right height.

She strode over to the nearest and stood right up against him so that he could not help but breathe in the fragrance of her erotic excitement. She inched forward and rubbed the fabric of her skirt against his face, smiling as she saw his member first grow erect and then burst forth. She repeated the procedure with the next and the next and within a minute she had every single tube filled with the milky fluid.

Pleased with herself, and thrilled with the evidence of her power, she stood back to review her work and decided which one would receive a dozen sharp strokes from her crop. Well, she needed an outlet for all the sexual energy that was coursing through her. Hmm, that one in front of her, she remembered him from one of their recruiting drives in London. The cocktail bar of the Lanesborough Hotel if her memory served her well. His flesh was almost as milky white as his spunk. He would do very nicely…..

New trainees are always a little over-enthusiastic.

Katya and Kasha joined the same day from the same village. They’d heard so much about the place – in fact Katya’s sister had worked there for a while and late at night gave juicy accounts of the duties that were required.

They had both been dying to try out all the apparatus but had to go through at least two days training before being set loose on their living prey.

The next morning they leapt in like lionesses hunting for meat, as some poor prisoner received the benefit of their deft fingerings and strokings, and they licked their lips in glee as they saw the liquids slosh about in the transparent perspex bowl above his head.

The weary older girls just looked on with an air of indifference, wondering how long it would be until they bored of the endless repetitive milking, day in, day out.

But for now they did not notice the hours pass. They almost didn’t feel they were earning. This was pure enjoyment. They would have worked night-shifts too, if they had been offered.
Giggling uncontrollably they skipped together from one male subject to the next, on and on throughout their shift.
Slave 45 was thirsty – really thirsty. She could tell that. Had she not been trained in the art of slave manipulation at Kharkiv University and graduated with first-class honours?

Warden Varozha could instantly tell when the slave was hovering on the borderlands of thirst and u*********sness.
Quickly she reached to the utility cupboard nearby and took out a clear plastic funnel which she attached to the screw-fitting secured to his gag. She smiled down mercifully at him, taking care to push her breasts forward and let him smell the scent from her dark hair.

His eyes looked up pleadingly at her as she mercifully dribbled a thread of her saliva down the glass and he watched as it slowly, very slowly inched its way down to his mouth.

Varozha loved to hear his gurgling as the minimal liquid sought to quench his thirst.

“That will keep you until lunch time – Irina will be round later and will either give you more of -that,” she whispered as her white gloves cleaned the rim of the tube, “or maybe even some water itself. Which would you prefer, eh?”

She giggled teasingly.

“After all, we have to keep you full of liquid to get more pumped out of you…”

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