Rose stared at the mandatory cow bikini that she wore for work. Even being on the smaller chested side, the triangle fabric pieces made her breasts look enticing. The bottom piece of the bikini hung low on her hips as she did a full twirl in the bathroom mirror. Damn, I look good.
However, feeling confident in the bathroom was a lot different than being confident in her job. Looking to make some extra money, Rose had looked online for a high-paying job that wouldn’t disrupt her University classes. With little to no experience, the options were slim. Now, while working in a human milk bar wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, Rose had to admit that pay was good and she got to indulge in some of her more secret fantasies.
It was an upscale place, but you wouldn’t be able to see it from the street. Only specific individuals came looking for this establishment, enticed by the promise of lactating women in cow-print underwear as your waitress and your meal. All the women who worked here were on a specific regimen of meals and medicine to help them produce milk, all payed for by the company who hires them.
Rose had been hesitant at first, feeling like she was prostituting herself, but calmed down after her first shift. The security was very adamant about making the girls feel safe and there were different rules with each girl according to her comfort level. Additionally, if you didn’t want to directly feed guests, you could choose to be one of the “pumpers” instead. The pumpers were just what the business called the girls they would milk using specialized machines to extract milk from their breasts slowly. They would set up in a back room, with large see-through glass on each side- sort of a display room if you will. Ladies and gentlemen alike would pay to watch the girls get expressed, playing into the cow/milking fetish. What’s collected would be used in the recipes the bar provided. None of it would got to waste.
Sometimes Rose participated in that side of the business, but more often than not she was in a customer’s lap or on the table, getting drank from. In this world, her cute stature, clumsiness, and small breasts worked in her favor. Specific types of customers looked for specific types of girls, she guessed.
A bell rang somewhere in the bar, signaling that there was a customer that needed attending to. Rose hurried out of the bathroom stall to her post at the front door. She greeted the man, a rather tall individual covered in muscles and tattoos. When he picked her to be his waitress, she couldn’t help but feel excited.
She walked him over to his table, making small talk all the while. He didn’t say much but the smile on his face indicated that he was having fun. They passed Sara, one of the more adventurous employees, in the stocks, customers surrounding her. The stocks were something Rose had yet to try, not quite getting up the nerve to be that on display. Like it sounded, the stocks are a rather complicated contraption, restraining the user’s arms behind her back and legs outward. There was a chair underneath her for balance, but she was mostly on display, barred from the waist up for customers to drink from. More of a “help yourself” situation.
It excited her to think of anyone (within reason) being able to drink from her chest, displayed for all to see, but Rose didn’t think was quite there yet.
Once they got to their table, the man made quick work of picking Rose up and setting her on his lap. “Is this okay?” He asked.
Rose appreciated the manners, a strong contrast from his rugged and bearded face. She nodded, “Of course, would you like to order now or later? I can tell you about the specials.”
“I think I’m looking at something pretty special, right here.”
She blushed at the flattery, another perk of working here. Most of the people who ended up staying were really polite and complimentary, it made her feel attractive and sexy. “Do you mind if I start…?” He asked.
He prodded at the strap of her bikini top and she smiled, “Not at all, go ahead.”
She pushed up her top to over her chest and he nuzzled at her small tits. His beard sort of tickled, but it was in a pleasurable way that sent shivers down Rose’s spine. Licking at the areola, the man teased her nipple until it was bright and perky. It seemed that the more he teased Rose, the more excited he got.
Finally, he latched onto her, giving a first strong suck. Rose could feel her milk start to flow out, her breast almost entirely covered by his warm mouth. He kept her on her toes, suckling sometimes softly only to abruptly stop and start a strong and intense suction. Rose’s toes curled at his intensity. It was like he was starving and Rose was the only meal around. His lips popped as he pulled off her breast and she thought that it was over.
Only for him to move onto her other tit. She could feel herself getting wet and some small part of her thought she would soak him through his pants. If he felt it or not, he didn’t seem to mind and kept focus on his task. Long, drawn-out, sucks left Rose’s back arching into the sensation. When he was done and Rose had been thoroughly drained, he thanked her for her time and left a generous tip.
Only when she was counting, did she notice a business card with a phone number. Above, in messy scrawl, was a “Call me and we can set up a more personal service.”
Rose couldn’t wait for her shift to end so she could call.