Chapter 3

By the time Luis showed up at the cell door with the Cuntbuster, Mari had handcuffed Paula, and I was wearing the large black strap-on. The neon orange Cuntbuster dildo was thicker than the black one, but Paula had no complaints. With me on my back on the bed and Paula sandwiched between us, we worked her over for a good hour until the tips ran dry. Paula left bowlegged, but in good spirits.

I kissed Mari goodbye, finger-banging her to another orgasm – unpaid this time. A couple of hours later, I couldn’t believe my luck when they allowed me to extract the Goliath. Lying on my back so that my shit wouldn’t fall out, I gave my viewers a good view of my cavernous, reluctantly closing hole.

The afternoon was slow, so I was glad when Paula returned at six, wheeling my tiny cage and equipment on a squeaking dolly. The cage was custom-built out of strong steel bars, barely large enough to sit in.

“You’ll be spending a couple of hours in the lobby,” she said. “Afterwards, they’ll pass you around on the upper floor. Offer your holes and try to drain as many balls as you can. You know the drill.” She glanced at the formerly shit-streaked Goliath that I had licked clean. “Can you hold your shit, or do we have to plug you?”

“I… uh… I think I can hold it.”

“Good. It’s Friday; we need as many open holes in rotation as we can get.”

She locked the heavy shackles on my ankles and applied the wide, rigid handcuffs. The handcuffs were fairly comfortable, securing my forearms parallel to the ground. It had proven to be a necessary precaution. Stuck inside my cage, I had a tendency to finger my asshole, and that was strictly a privilege of paying guests.

Paula opened the cage door, and I backed inside, pulling my knees to my chest and feeding my collar into the recess in the lid. It was a tight fit, but with some pressure against my shins, it closed, flattening my tits. She secured the door with a padlock.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

“More or less.”

“I’m afraid it’s as good as it gets.” She held up the ring gag. “Let’s go back to this. Some guests requested it, apparently.”

“Is that really necessary?” I asked. “I suck much better without it.”

“They want to fuck your face, not make conversation. Open up, Carlita. Don’t make me ask twice. It’s just for a couple of hours while you’re in your cage.”

The gag would go in, whether I wanted or not, so I relented.

My mouth propped wide open, she wheeled me out, past the cells where the other whores were still busy with their shows. Marisol was gnawing shit off her anal beads, looking queasy, and the rebellious newcomer in cell five was lying on the floor, trussed up in a strict hogtie, with a rope running from the back of her head harness to her ass hook.

It would probably take a few days, but one way or another, they found a way to unleash the performer in everyone. She'd be eagerly stuffing her holes by Monday at the latest.

When Paula wheeled me past cell three, we heard desperate noises. She stopped and peered into the cell. Inside sat Sofie, a natural blonde of Danish descent, collared and chained to the wall, wearing a ball gag harness, a straitjacket, and an overfull diaper.

The two vertical slots in the front of her straitjacket were open, exposing her enormous breasts. They had been large before, but thanks to a lactation-inducing hormone cocktail and frequent milking, they had swollen to a massive size. Drops of milk had formed on her nipples, dripping to the floor.

“They haven’t hooked you up yet?” asked Paula, nodding toward the goat milker in the corner. “You look like you’re ready to pop.”

Sofie shook her head, struggling to get up. Her diaper was so swollen with piss that she could no longer close her legs.

Paula cursed. “Luis!” she yelled. “What the fuck? Why hasn’t Sofie been milked?”

“She called our viewers perverts,” he shouted back. “I’m teaching her a lesson.”

“Well, they are perverts, aren’t they?”

“I call them pervs all the time,” shouted Mari from her cell. “Never had any complaints. You have to say it with affection.”

Luis laughed. “She didn’t.”

“Trust me, she learned her lesson,” said Paula. “Open five, come on. I’ll hook her up and change her diaper. If she gets a rash and can’t work, you’ll have to explain that bullshit to Miguel.”

“Fine.”

The door opened, and Paula wheeled me inside to make space in the hallway. The stench in the cell was a clear indication that there was more than just pee inside the diaper.

“They are fucking perverts!” hissed Sofie, the moment Paula removed her gag. “I can’t do another five months like this! Tell that asshole Miguel I changed my mind. I’ll go upstairs and fuck whoever.”

“You blew that chance. Now shut up if you wanna get milked.” Paula reached for the girl’s ballooning left tit, and the moment she touched it, milk sprayed through the cell. “Damn, you really need it.”

“God, this fucking hurts! My production is five liters a day. Five liters! How crazy is that?”

Paula shrugged. “If they keep milking you regularly, you can probably do more. But I’ll talk to Miguel, see what I can do. Now lie back, and I’ll change your diaper.”

When Sofie was on her back, Paula wheeled the goat milker over. She flicked the switch, and the humming, pulsing sound of the vacuum pump filled the cell. The teat cups attached to Sofie’s puffy nipples, and the machine began extracting her breast milk.

Sofie sighed. “Oh God, oh God, oh god, this is better than the best fuck of my life.”

“This here isn’t,” said Paula, opening the straps of Sofie’s diaper. “If I wanted to change shitty diapers, I would have stayed a nurse.”

I craned my neck to see better, my nipples standing erect as I watched. Sofie had taken a massive, soft dump inside that diaper, and the brown mush had spread everywhere. The stench wafting over was intense. I inhaled deeply, drooling through my ring gag.

Paula cleaned her up with wet wipes, then rolled up the diaper.

The milker was still hissing and humming when we left Sofie in a fresh diaper. In her love-hate relationship with the machine she was clearly in the love part, moaning in orgasmic bliss as the pump sucked on her teats, draining her still swollen breasts.

Paula wheeled me down the hallway toward the elevator, carrying a metal container full of milk. Upstairs at the bar, they charged triple for the White Russian if the drink was made with breast milk, and they usually sold out early. If the hogtied, ass-hooked newcomer in cell five didn’t give up her resistance, I had no doubt there would be plenty of additional supply.

“Those udders are quite something, huh,” said Paula as we waited for the elevator. “Maybe they’ll let you go earlier if you volunteer for that.” She reached down, stroking my squished breast. “What do you say, Carlita? Do you want milky tits?”

I stared up at her. That look of pure ecstasy on Sofie’s face as the machine sucked on her nipples had left a deep impression. My tits would grow, and maybe I’d have an orgasm again – the first after they cut off my balls. I felt my heart thumping in my chest.

“Ugh,” I mumbled, giving her a tentative nod.

She patted my head. “We’ll have to see. I don’t think you’d produce just as much, though.”

When we reached the lobby, the debauchery was already in full swing. I couldn’t wait to get started.