In the quiet suburban cul-de-sac, where the only excitement was the occasional visiting cat, Lucy’s arrival sparked an unexpected tempest. She was a blend of innocence and curiosity, with her wide-eyed gaze and shy smile, having recently moved in next door to Lara, the neighborhood’s more… eccentric resident.
Lara was a statuesque woman, her body a testament to nature’s whims, having never fully weaned from her lactating breasts. She was a lesbian, proud and unapologetic, with a penchant for dominance that ran deeper than the roots of the ancient oak in her front yard.
The first time Lucy felt the pull, she was in her backyard, washing her car. Lara, sprawled languidly on her porch, watched Lucy’s hands lather the soap, her eyes trailing the sudsy bubbles. “You have delicious hands,” Lara commented, her voice a low purr. Lucy blushed, her eyes darting to Lara’s chest, where her nipples strained against her thin shirt.
Lara caught her gaze and smirked. “Like what you see, Lucy?”
Lucy stammered, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Lara replied, standing up. She walked towards Lucy, her hips swaying. “In fact, I’d like you to stare, Lucy. A lot.” She stopped a few feet away, her nipples now painfully hard. “Touch me, Lucy. Just once.”
Lucy hesitated, then reached out, her fingers brushing against Lara’s nipple. It was hot, stiff, and… wet. She pulled away, her eyes wide. “You’re lactating?”
“Yes,” Lara said, grinning. “And it’s quite the turn-on.”
Lucy licked her lips, her eyes darting between Lara’s eyes and her chest. “I’ve never…”
“Follow me, Lucy,” Lara said, turning towards her house. “I’ll show you.”
In Lara’s kitchen, she lifted her shirt, letting her breasts spill out. Lucy watched, her mouth agape, as Lara squeezed one of her nipples, a spurt of milk shooting out, landing on the counter. “Taste it,” Lara commanded.
Lucy stepped closer, tentatively licking the milk. It was sweet, creamy, and unlike anything she’d tasted before. She looked up at Lara, her eyes filled with desire and shame.
Lara smiled, a predator spotting its prey. “You like it, don’t you? You like the taste of my milk, Lucy.”
Lucy nodded, her cheeks flushed.
“And you like being told what to do, don’t you?”
Lucy hesitated, then nodded again, shamefaced.
“I knew it,” Lara said, her voice soft, yet dominant. “You’re a good little girl, Lucy. You like being told what to do, and you like being humiliated, don’t you?”
Lucy whimpered, her body betraying her. She was wet, her panties soaked with her arousal and her shame.
Lara reached out, her fingers trailing down Lucy’s cheek, then her neck, her chest, until they reached her breast. “You like being humiliated, Lucy, because it makes you feel alive. It makes you feel desired, doesn’t it?”
Lucy couldn’t speak, her body trembling with desire and shame.
“Say it, Lucy,” Lara commanded. “Say ‘I like being humiliated, Mistress.'”
Lucy hesitated, then whispered, “I like being humiliated, Mistress.”
Lara smiled, her eyes gleaming. “Good girl.”
From that day forward, Lara brought Lucy into her world, a world of dominance and submission, of humiliation and pleasure. She fed Lucy her milk, making her drink from her breasts, making her taste her own shame. She spanked Lucy, her hands, her belt, even her breasts, until Lucy was a sobbing, begging mess. And Lucy loved every minute of it, her body responding to Lara’s dominance like a blooming flower to the sun.
One day, Lara decided to take it a step further. She tied Lucy to her bed, her hands and feet spread-eagle, her body naked and exposed. She then brought out a breast pump, a wicked grin on her face. “Today, Lucy,” she said, “I’m going to milk you.”
Lucy’s eyes widened, her body writhing against her restraints. “What? No, Mistress, please…”
“Shh,” Lara said, bringing the pump to Lucy’s breast. “You’re going to love it.”
She turned on the pump, the rhythmic suction pulling on Lucy’s nipple. Lucy gasped, her body arching, as the pump began to milk her. It was a strange, unfamiliar sensation, one that made her feel vulnerable, exposed, and… aroused. She could feel the milk being pulled from her, could see it filling the bottle, and she felt a sense of pride, of accomplishment, that she’d never felt before.
Lara watched her, her eyes gleaming with pleasure. “You’re doing so well, Lucy,” she praised, her fingers trailing down Lucy’s body. “You’re being such a good little girl.”
Lucy moaned, her body writhing as Lara’s fingers found her clit, rubbing it in sync with the pump. She was a mess of sensation, her body overwhelmed with pleasure, pain, and humiliation. She could feel her orgasm building, could feel herself teetering on the edge.
Lara leaned down, her mouth close to Lucy’s ear. “Come for me, Lucy,” she whispered. “Come for your Mistress.”
And with those words, Lucy came, her body convulsing, her milk spilling over as she screamed Lara’s name.