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This is a new story series I have been working on called The Milking Farm. Several friends of mine make cameos in this story, as well as myself. I hope that you enjoy this little trip through a very perverted rehabilitation facility.

Intended for those 18 years and older.

~~~

The Milking Farm-Chapter One

The Northwest of the United States has long been known for the freaks and occasional sicko that has come out of their neck of the woods. Serial killers, arsonists, murders, rapists, and just plain weirdos are common stock in the Pacific Northwest, it seems, considering the amount of them that plagues the rest of the nation. It is said by some people that the psychos are bred there. In some ways, those people would not be wrong. But none can really deny the weirdness that is inherent to that area of the world, least of all those that are incarcerated at the Farm.

The Milking Farm is one of those sorts of places where one has to wonder if the ones who conceived of it were insane, or brilliant, as the rehabilitation records of the prison exceed any other prison in the nation, yet the methods involved are so strange that only a crazy, perverted millionaire would have ever conceived of it. In fact, many people look at the Milking Farm today, and wonder why they allow it to continue operating. The methods used within could be classified as torture, according to many of the inmates that are eventually released, but none are willing to file a charge against it. In fact, many that are released from the Farm eventually take up work within it, replacing those who had been in authority over them.

At the very least, this Farm can be called strange. At the most, one could call it an asylum built by the insane. But no one can deny that is very effective for dealing with the criminals sent there.

Some of the inmates sent to the Milking Farm believe that it would be an easy sentence. After all, what sort of people would really be afraid of a Farm, full of animals and other annoying, but easy tasks? In reality, quite a few more than one would think. No one, having served their time at the Milking Farm, has ever thought to commit a crime again, and there is a reason for that, as the newest inmate of the Farm is about to find out.

~~~

The bear grunted softly as he adjusted himself on the bus seat again, muttering under his breath. For a change, the guard didn't bother looking back at him. Maybe the guard was bored with his constant muttering and cursing, maybe not, but he didn't appreciate being ignored. "Hey, can't you stop? I need to take a-"

"Shut up, convict," the guard said, watching the road over the bus driver's shoulder. "You took a piss an hour ago. You don't need to piss, shit, or whatever, so stop talking." The human wasn't even looking at him, so Damo couldn't even take satisfaction in glaring at the guard.

Damo growled under his breath, but shut up. It had been worth a try, even though it didn't work the first time. He never would have thought the human would have been so quick to use his gun on an escaping prisoner, particularly when he was the only prisoner on the bus. It wasn't like the guard couldn't have chased after him. He would have preferred that. Even with the chains and the fat carried around on his belly, he was sure he could have outrun the guard.

Instead, he nearly was shot in the leg, the bullet bouncing off of the building next to him, and then grazing his leg. It had only now stopped bleeding. He rubbed the bloody, ripped part of his jumpsuit as he glared at the guard. Oh, he would pay him back, eventually. He would pay him back.

Slumping back in his seat, the bear looked out at the scenery that passed by. Washington state was so lush, so green compared to his home. It was like everywhere you looked, a tree sprouted. Even when he was in the city, it seemed as though there was a tree, or some form of greenery, every few blocks. It was like the entire state just couldn't get enough greenery. It was enough to make him a little homesick.

Now, he didn't even have the various buildings of a city to block out some of the trees. The freeway and the cars around them barely distracted him from all the nature, certainly not enough to block out the thoughts that he had for the creatures that likely lived in the woods.

He laughed as he felt his member stirring in his jumpsuit, and rubbed it lightly. He didn't care if the guard turned to look. Let him. He liked showing off, even if that was what got him into trouble. That boy said that he'd be fine with this, that nothing would happen. "Shoulda got the parents to say the same thing," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. They had been the cause of all these problems, not the boy, and not him. They had just been having fun with each other, and it hadn't been rape, no matter what the parents might have said to the police.

Statutory rape, according to his lawyer, should have been a slap on the wrist, not prison time. Either the judge had been a lot angrier about it than she should have been when she handed down sentencing, or she agreed with him. A Milking Farm? That was a joke. It wasn't even covered with security, he would bet. He'd escape in a day or two, at most. Nobody was going to force him to milk cows for two years because of two overprotective parents.

The sudden turn to the off ramp shook him out of his thoughts, and nearly out of his seat. He grabbed for one of the bars on the seat in front of him to keep himself upright, and nearly brained himself on another seat anyway. Again, he glared at the pair of humans in the front, and again, they ignored him. "Where'd you learn to drive?!" he yelled.

Neither human looked at him, or deigned to respond. Oh, he would get them back for this, for ignoring him...

The bus slowed down on the new road, enough to allow the bear to see a few things that concerned him. Every couple hundred feet, he could see watchtowers. Each one had at least three guards in it, and each one had two spotlights. Much more security for a farm than he had thought. He tentatively started to stand up, felt the bumps that the bus was running over, and thought better of it.

The closer they seemed to get to their destination, the more towers there were, and the more guards that each one held. If this was the security outside of the farm, then what the heck was going to be inside? He was starting to wonder if he was really being sent to a farm. The guard couldn't be mad enough from his escape attempt to take him to a real prison, could he? No, he couldn't be, he just couldn't be. He realized that he was starting to hyperventilate, but he couldn't stop. Thoughts of real prison, a prison where he would be seen as a rapist, would be torture. If the other inmates found out that he was a rapist...well, he had heard stories of that, and he didn't want to die!

The guard finally looked back at him, probably from his panicked breathing. The human smiled, and pointed at him with a mocking grin. "Look, the bear is scared. Gonna shit yourself in fear, bear boy? You scared? You should be. The Milking Farm is much worse than any prison," the human said with a laugh, stroking the gun that he held in his hand. The guard was eyeing him, as though worried that he would make a break for it, now. The way the guard held that gun...

Well, it was enough to make sure that he stayed planted in his seat. At least he wasn't going to a real prison. He still doubted that the Milking Farm would be all that bad. Seriously, it had the word 'farm' in it. No self respecting prison would have that kind of a name, he was sure.

He looked away from the guard and back at the road. In the distance, he could see a building coming up. It didn't look like a farm, so he looked past it, wondering how much further they had left to go. Rather than continue, however, the bus slowed, and finally stopped in front of the building he'd seen. His fear returning, Damo slowly turned to look at the building. He prayed that the bus had just run out of gas, and that this was an oversized gas station or something.

The building alongside the bus was painted completely white. Security cameras dotted the walls, both at the corners of the building and along the walls, covering the doors and other open areas without a single blind spot that he could see. The parking lot that the bus had stopped in was small, with only three cars in it and one other bus heading away from the building, a prison bus whose driver wore a relieved grin. At least, that was what it looked like in the second he had to see before the driver moved out of view. As the bus moved out of the way, the building's logo was revealed.

Written in black letters on the white background of the building's exterior, nearly forty feet in the air, were the words "The Milking Farm".

"Well, so much for the hope of it being a gas station," Damo muttered to himself with a gulp of fear. He did not want to be here. He most certainly did not. His body was already breaking out in a sweat, and he could almost hear his heart thumping like mad in his chest. Prison. It was a real prison.

The bus drove through the gate that opened in the front of the building. Rather than the yard that most of the other prisons he heard about had, this place had no sort of outdoor area for the inmates. None that he could see, anyway, and he should be able to see it if there was one. There was only the large-he thought four or five story-building, and woods around it.

As the bus drove through the gate in the building, Damo realized the gate was almost exactly like the loading docks in a trucking company, except for the fact that the metal sliding doors reached down to the ground, rather than to a point off of the ground for a truck to back into. The gate would be a lot harder to get through than a door, he realized, which was probably one reason why the Farm had it set up that way. He shivered despite the sweat covering his body. Escape of any sort was looking more difficult by the minute.

The gate slammed down quickly as the bus reached the drop off point for him, and the human guard at the front of the bus chuckled. Walking towards him with rifle leveled, he said, "I almost wish I could see you scream out there, bear boy. Rapists don't do well in prison...Ah well, at least I'll get a report of your death when it comes." He gestured for him to get up and out of the bus. For a minute, Damo was tempted to stay right there, even with the gun pointed at him. Being shot by a guard couldn't be nearly as bad as how he'd be treated in a real prison, he was sure. Everyone knew the stories of how rapists were treated in a real prison, and if they found out...

He looked out the window. More guards, ones that actually served at this prison by their uniforms, were assembling at the door of the bus. Rather than the traditional blue, though, they were wearing white. In all other ways, the uniform was the same as other prison guards, but they were wearing white! Was that the theme of the institution or something?

In addition, they were all furs. There wasn't a single human among the guards out there, and for some reason, that calmed him down a little bit. For most of the drive, he wondered if part of his guard's hostility came from the fact that they so different, one human, one anthro, but at least here, he wouldn't have to deal with that problem. A lot of other problems, maybe, but not that problem.

Standing up, he walked around the guard. Out of the sunlight that had streamed through the window, he felt a little cold. Not enough to shiver, thankfully, but enough to remind him of the cold sweat soaking him through the prison jumpsuit. A glance down showed that he hadn't pissed himself out of fear, at least, but he was definitely more than a little wet at the armpits, and from the way that his socks felt on his footpaws, he had more than a little sweat leaking out of his pads and toes as well.

The guards assembled didn't have any guns. It looked a little weird, seeing so many guard furs without guns, but it put him a little more at ease. The chains at his ankles and wrists jangled a bit, reminding him that he was a prisoner, but at least it seemed that it was a lighter security prison instead of the maximum one that the outside put him in mind of.

He jumped as the wheels of the bus screamed behind him, the prison bus zooming out in reverse seemingly as fast as the driver could go. Due to the chains at his ankles, he nearly fell down, but thankfully caught his balance without the aid of the guards. He panted softly, one paw to his chest to try and calm down his pounding heart.

"So, you're the new prisoner."

Damo whipped his head around to look at the source of the voice. In the dim light of the room-it was a former docking bay for trucks, he was sure, by the layout-he wasn't quite sure where the voice came from. The guards stood out, because they wore white, but none of them had spoken. He squinted, looking at the steps in the back of the room. There was a single guard back there, also wearing white, but he had the look of a person standing at attention for a superior.

The other guards quickly adopted the same posture, and Damo had the spine tingling feeling of someone standing right behind him. He slowly turned around, not wanting whoever was behind him to think that he was being aggressive or anything like that. He wanted to get a good first impression. They were very important, after all.

He nearly came up to the chin of the wolf that apparently had been the one to speak. Standing almost a full foot taller than him, the large wolf stared down at him with icy blue eyes that promised both mischief and punishment for any rule-breaking. Dressed in a smart, well-cut suit, the wolf said, "I am the Warden. Warden Lupe. I want to make sure to meet every prisoner coming in here personally, because all prisoners will eventually be worked over by me. I find that a personal touch before that time comes tends to smooth away the awkwardness. Now, what is your name, convict?"

Damo swallowed hard, doing his best and failing to keep fear off of his face. This was a wolf that he wouldn't have trifled with, even outside of a prison. To work against this guy, inside of a prison where the wolf would hold all of the power would be next to suicide. "Damo, sir. Damostat," he said. He forced himself to look into the wolf's eyes for a second, trying to not be quite so scared, but just couldn't hold it for more than a second.

The wolf chuckled at him, and his face burned as he blushed. "Good to know, bear, good to know," the warden said. The wolf patted his shoulder lightly, and gestured for one of the guards to come forward. "Guard Ekz'ahhar, get Damostat into his outfit, and find a good dormitory for him. I don't think there are any open except for that dragon's place, but see if you can find one anyway."

Ekz'ahhar, a doberman that barely seemed to fit into his uniform and stood nearly as tall as the wolf, nodded in understanding as he walked forward. The canine grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him along to the stairs and door at the back of the room. The grip was gentle enough to keep from hurting him, but Damo was sure that the doberman could break a bone if he was aggravated enough. It certainly wasn't fat that was making those clothes hard to fit into, and a look down at the doberman's legs was enough to tell him that this was a male that worked out.

A lot.

"So...I need another uniform besides the one that they gave me back in processing in County?" he asked, looking up at the doberman. A little conversation never hurt.

Of course, the laugh that the doberman answered him with didn't quite make him want to do the same. "Oh, you already have your uniform. You're just not wearing it at the moment, Damostat," he said as he unlocked the door. "Don't worry. Everyone here has the same uniform, though it's not always of the same quality, of course."

Damo felt a shudder of nervousness run through him at that, but he didn't have the chance to ask what the doberman meant. No sooner had the guard explained than he opened the door to the rest of the facility. Damo looked inside, and gaped at the sight.

The entire inside of the building seemed to be one hollowed out interior, with half of it dedicated to buildings like the portable classrooms that one would see around high schools, with the other half taken up with another building, three stories tall and quite easily taking up the second half of the interior. Along the walls were painted designs of prison bars, as if to remind the furs inside of what they were inside, considering there were no cells. The small portable looking buildings seemed to be the living spaces for the furs inside, each one about fifteen feet long by eight feet wide, and seemed to be able to fit three furs, perhaps four, at a pinch.

But it was the inmates wandering around the floor of the building that had his attention. There were stallions, foxes, mice, other bears, raccoons, and even a dragon down there, each one a male. They walked around like the people in a shopping square, nothing different in their body language, and most of them rather friendly with other inmates, considering that even from up here he could see quite a few gropes going on.

What really shocked him, however, was the fact that each inmate was completely, totally without clothes.

He stared at them, barely hearing the continued chuckle of the doberman at his side. All of the males were completely stripped, each one as sexy as anything he'd ever seen on the internet. Not a one of them seemed unattractive, and not a one of them seemed straight, either, considering that no one passed another without either groping or being groped, and they always responded with a smile. If this was a prison, how could they all be so happy? Shouldn't they be angry? In cells? Something like he had seen in the documentaries, at least.

The doberman tugged his arm again, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Come on, strip down, bear," Guard Ekz'ahhar said, reaching for the buttons on the front of the jumpsuit. "No clothes allowed for inmates in here. Your birthday suit is your uniform, and if you're uncomfortable around other males, you won't be for long." The doberman smiled, and patted him on the back. He was so shocked that he didn't even protest when the doberman yanked the jumpsuit down to his ankles in one pull. "Don't worry. You'll like it here, I think. Most every male does, after the first week. Just make sure that you don't have too much fun down there. You'll have to contribute to the release fund for the entire period of your sentence here, and the longer you take to contribute, the longer you'll be here."

Damo blinked, barely understanding the doberman's words. Release fund? What on earth was that? He was so confused that he didn't even notice the guard physically ripping the underwear from him. His belly jiggled a bit, just like his sheath and balls, but he couldn't protest. No sooner were his clothes gone than he was being pulled down the stairs on the wall to the ground floor. The clanking metal of the stairs under his bare feet grabbed the attention of the inmates below, and he blushed under the considering stares of a couple of them. Two in particular, the single dragon and a raccoon, stared up at him with very obviously hungry, lusty grins. They were handsome enough, but he wasn't about to just jump into bed with...ah who was he kidding, it was great.

He stepped down behind the guard as they reached the ground floor. Surprisingly, the floor wasn't stone or concrete, as he had thought, but almost spongy, bouncy, like the floor of a gymnast's routine. Each step forced him to walk in a way that was almost a skip, like little girls would do instead of walking. Still, it was more comfortable to his feet than concrete would be, so he didn't really mind the silly way of walking. He'd get used to it.

Freezing at that thought, Damo slapped himself on the back of the head before continuing across the floor behind the guard. He would not get used to this, because he was going to try and find a way out of here. Sexy inmates aside, this place was a prison, and it wouldn't take long for the other inmates to find out what he was in here for. He was not going to become someone's sex toy, no matter who might try. He was going to get out of here, and he was going to make sure that the guard that shot him got his due. Rubbing the grazed flesh on his leg as he thought of it, Damo almost ran into his guard when the doberman stopped abruptly in front of the nearest dormitory.

The ramp leading up to the door had long since been torn away, replaced by a few short steps that were securely mounted to the dorm. Sitting on the steps was an Arabian stallion, his short, sleek black fur shining in the artificial light, his cock hanging limp out of a sheath, atop a full pair of balls. Beside the stallion was a much smaller mouse, brown furred, bright eyed, and twitchy as hell. He expected that the only reason the mouse wasn't chittering with greetings and possible obscenities was because of the hand the stallion kept over the mouse's mouth.

"Newcomer, boss?" the stallion asked, looking at the doberman.

"Newcomer, Fallon," Ekz'ahhar said, pulling on him by the arm. "Do you know if any of the dorms have any room in them? I'd prefer not to put him in with the dragon and raccoon, but if they are the only ones with room, I don't have much choice."

The stallion, Fallon, moved his free hand to his chin, staring at him. "Yes, I can see why you might want to be careful with him...those two would have him in bed in five minutes. Not that I'd mind having him for myself and Richie, here," Fallon said with a chuckle, nodding at the mouse. The rodent grinned at the praise, and Damo noticed the mouse's member grew a little out of his sheath at the words. Was the mouse so starved for approval that it actually made him aroused? Fallon seemed to think for a moment, and shook his head. "Only other dorm that has any room left is the one the Twins are in, and he'd be worse off there than in the dragon's place. Sorry, boss."

The doberman nodded. "Well, nothing more than I expected, really, but thanks for trying, Fallon," he said, turning towards the rest of the dorms. The dragon and raccoon that had watched him descend were leaning against one of the dorms further in, and the two of them were obviously as much of a couple as Fallon and Richie, if not more so.

The two naked males were embracing one another, the raccoon with both arms around the dragon's waist, with the dragon holding the raccoon close to him with a muscled arm around the raccoon's shoulder. In plain few, the dragon's other hand was fondling the raccoon's-

Damo took a double-take at the raccoon's balls. He was sure that was seeing things. He had to be, because those testicles were about the size of baseballs, softballs, maybe even bigger. What the hell had caused the raccoon to have orbs that size between his legs?!

He jumped as he felt a pinch to his backside, looking all over to see which of the convicts had touched him back there. With all the smiles they were sporting, however, he couldn't tell which one. They all looked so cocky that they might have all done it, for all that he could read their faces on the matter. He wasn't given much time to look around, either, as the doberman continued pulling on his arm. "Come on. You're new here, so you'll have all the time in the world to get to know the inmates. Right now, you need to get assigned to a dorm. You better pray that Draconicon and Angelo are willing to share their dorm with you, because if they aren't, you're going to be stuck with the Twins. They're a nightmare on steroids, I swear," Guard Ekz'ahhar said with a shake of his head.

Damo blinked at the warning that his guard was giving him. The way that everyone was talking about the dragon and the raccoon, he was wondering if they were dangerous murderers or something. But he did know one thing. He would take the lesser evil over the greater evil, and the Twins were sounding completely terrible. At least the dragon and the raccoon seemed to only want sex. That he could give, without problems. They were sexy enough, certainly, from what he could see. One lightly chubby, deliciously so, while the other was muscular and masterful; both qualities were ones that stood high on his own list of preferences.

Still, it was quite an adjustment to see a dragon groping a raccoon's ass right in the middle of a prison floor, even one as twisted as this!

The doberman dragged him in front of the pair. "Draconicon, do you-"

"Yes," the dragon said, his voice deep, a little gravelly, and nearly as full of authority as the Warden's. "Yes, I have room here. I'm sure that we can fit a newcomer in our dorm. Wouldn't you say, Angelo, my pet?" He patted the raccoon's backside as he whispered the question, and smiled at the smaller raccoon.

"I'm sure we can, love," Angelo said, giggling a little and pushing his rear back against the dragon's paw. Damo's eyes felt like they were ready to pop out of his head at the way these two were acting. What the hell did this prison do to the way that people thought?! This was not normal! People weren't supposed to act this way in public, even if it was in prison.

The dragon chuckled at him, pointing down at Damo's crotch. "Seems like the newcomer likes what he sees, huh, guard?" Damo blinked, and looked down at his crotch. Around his little rolls of belly fat, his member was peeking out. More than just peeking, it was hard, pulsing, and leaking.

"What the hell?!" he muttered to himself, crossing his hands around his crotch for a moment. The doberman guard grabbed his hands, though, and pulled them out of the way. Ekz'ahhar nodded at the dragon, and then walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

Damo stared at the departing guard. He almost wished that the guard would stay down here with him, no matter the stigma that it might mark him with. The doberman was a guard, after all, and the inmates might be more reluctant to mess with a new prisoner that was under the protection of a guard. Of course, when Ekz'ahhar would have to leave, it would make him more vulnerable than ever, particularly when-

"So, you're the rapist that we heard was coming here," the dragon said, clapping a hand down on his shoulder.

Damo froze. Even if the paw lifted from his shoulder at that moment, he couldn't have run. The dragon knew?! That meant that the raccoon knew as well, and who knew how many others in here did. His life wasn't measured in days. It was measured in hours, if not minutes. "How...how did you know? It wasn't rape, you know. It was...it was statutory rape! The parents made it my fault!" Maybe if he explained, maybe he could buy enough time to figure out a way to get out of here.

The dragon only laughed. "Everyone in here knows when a new prisoner is coming along. The guards knew, the inmates know, the Warden knew. Everyone knows everything about the charges against the newcomers," Draconicon said, pulling him along by the shoulder. "Let's talk inside. Angelo?" The dragon looked at the raccoon. "Check for anyone listening, then follow along, please."

"Got it, Master," the raccoon said with a smile and a playful salute. Damo couldn't help staring at the swaying testicles of the raccoon as the smaller male walked off, but his view was soon cut off as he was dragged into the dorm he would live in for a while.

The dragon pushed him down onto the one bed that seemed to have been made earlier in the day. The other two, covering the opposite half of the room, were disheveled; the blankets and sheets flung everywhere. Joined together as they were, there was little question as to what had happened over there. The musk that rose from the blankets confirmed that the dragon and raccoon probably had a lot of sex over there, and enough to leave a heavy stench of semen and male arousal.

The dragon grabbed him by the chin, turning his face to look up at the reptile. "You seem afraid. You shouldn't be. Not of me, at least, not until you disobey me." The dragon laughed softly. "But understand something here, Fish," he muttered. "If you make trouble, or cause hurt to my raccoon, then we will have problems. And trust me, you don't want problems with me. Do what I say, keep up your quota with the guards, and we'll get along with no problems. Make me mad? You'll be buried beneath this house before you'll know what hit you." The dragon shoved him back hard enough to make him bounce on the bed a few times.

Damo shivered to himself at the way that the dragon was acting. It was almost like Draconicon had multiple personalities, one the cooperative, smiling one around the guards, the other this ruthless, devoted master. He could have dealt with either one, but if he didn't know which personality seemed more dominant, he wouldn't know how to act. Sitting up on the bed, he took a little time to look around his little room.

It was both small and large at the same time. Larger than the rooms that he had seen in a lot of his friends houses, and larger than a prison cell, but it still seemed rather small, considering that three people would have to live in it. Never mind that he had half of the 1200 sq. foot room to himself, it was still going to be cramped, particularly considering that the dragon and the raccoon would be going at it every night, and particularly considering that he had yet to see a toilet in the otherwise sparse room.

The walls were painted in the same design as the walls outside. Prison bar upon prison bar. More and more he was starting to wonder why they painted the reminders of a prison. He knew he was in prison. He was pretty sure that the other inmates did as well, despite the constant groping and smiles. Why would they need the reminder all the time, even inside of these little dorms?

He shook his he had. He should be figuring out a way to get out of here, not staring at the internal design, no matter how interesting he found it to be. If the other inmates knew he was in here on a count of rape, then there wouldn't be time to admire it. He would be dead, stabbed, or killed in some other inventive way.

The dragon snapped him out of his thoughts with his laughter. Damo turned with a glare. "What's so funny?" he grunted.

"You, bear!" Draconicon said with a grin. "You're what's so funny. You're so freaked out by the fact that people here know what you're in here for that you've forgotten something." Damo couldn't think of a thing he might have forgotten. If anything, he had been hyper alert, worried by all the things that his memory was dredging up. "Think for a moment, Fish. Only one guard came down here. If the people here wanted you dead, don't you think you would be dead? People in here aren't afraid of the guards. They are afraid of only two people. The Warden. And me. I don't really think they want you dead, considering that they let you live to come down here to your dorm."

Damo blinked in surprise. That much was true. One guard, considering what he was in here for, certainly wouldn't have been enough. If anything, they would have kept four guards around him, at least, if they wanted him to stay alive. Still, there was one more thing bothering him.

"Why are you calling me Fish? I'm a bear, in case you haven't noticed."

"Because you're new," Draconicon said with a smile. "You're fresh fish. Fresh caught, fresh to the prison system, fodder for the Farm. You're freshly arrived, and you'll be snapped up eagerly by those that might think you're available," he explained. He chuckled, adding, "Until the next prisoner comes along, Fish."

Damo blinked, but nodded in acquiescence. The dragon seemed insane to him, completely insane, but he wasn't going to say it. Leaning back on the bed allowed him, he looked around a little bit for something to do. From what he could see, the dorm didn't have any books, but maybe they were allowed another form of entertainment?

A few minutes of searching put that thought into an early grave. There was nothing in the dorm besides the beds. Not even clothes, not that he really expected to find any, but it would have been nice to have some form of protection against showing his body off to all these males.

The door of the dorm slammed open, and the raccoon almost pranced inside before shutting it. Those heavy balls bounced with him, and despite himself, Damo couldn't help staring at them with each step that the raccoon made. It was like they could hypnotize or something. He felt his member bouncing against his belly, but he just couldn't help himself.

The raccoon, Angelo, sat himself down on the dragon's lap. "Everyone's too busy getting ready to make their contribution to the release fund to listen to us, Master," Angelo said, grinding his rear against the dragon's lap. "We still got an hour until then. Mmm, you wanna stuff me?"

Chuckling, the dragon shook his head. "Later, my love, later," Draconicon said, gesturing to Damo. "We have a guest, remember? Two years here, as a minimum. I think we should tell him what he's in for, don't you?"

"Oh, do we have to?" Angelo asked, turning to look at him again. The raccoon held a hand to his mouth, whispering in a way that was designed to carry over to him, "He's cute. Can't we have some fun with him first before the Farm messes with him?"

Damo blinked at the raccoon's idea, but the dragon spoke before he could. "Now, now, my pet, that wouldn't be right. We'll have plenty of time to play with this bear later. He's here for two years, remember, and that means he'll be right here, in this room, every night. We'll have our chance. But he deserves to know about this place. You remember how freaked out you were when you first came here, remember?" Angelo nodded. "Then why don't tell him? I'll play with you a bit while you talk," Draconicon said. He suited words to action by wrapping one hand around the raccoon's sheath, while the other hefted the prodigious testicles hanging beneath it. To Damo's amazement, even the dragon's large hand couldn't completely contain the two of them.

He had to rip his eyes away from the action going on down at the raccoon's crotch to be able to pay attention to what Angelo was saying, and each second spent looking away from the hot handjob the raccoon was getting was difficult in the extreme. "Oooh...Well, this Farm...is here for a...God Draconicon...a different kind of rehabilitation," the raccoon said amidst his pants and moans. He spoke quickly, trying to get as many words in as he could before he had to moan in pleasure again. "We're made into a product here-ah...The guards and nurses in the other building, they milk us. Our cum...they milk us, for example...for gallons of cum, since we make so much," the raccoon explained, gesturing down at his own balls.

Damo blinked several times in surprise. They were milked...for their semen? In prison? What the hell for?!

"They sell the cum...to different labs that study genetics," the raccoon continued, beginning to hump into the dragon's paw. Pre was leaking over the dragon's scales, and down the raccoon's dick as Angelo explained all of this. "The extra...they sell the extra to the adult toy companies. They use it to make-AAAHHhh..." Angelo had to pause for a moment, panting heavily as the dragon teased him. The raccoon's member obviously wanted to shoot, but the dragon had two fingers pinched around the base of the raccoon's cock, preventing the semen from rising up the shaft and firing outwards. After giving the dragon a playful glare, the raccoon continued explaining.

"Those companies use the excess cum to make cum lube. The Milking Farm makes a hefty profit out of selling all of this, and we become addicted to the pleasurable pain that the Farm gives us," Angelo said, giggling a bit. "That's how Draconicon explained it to me. Did I miss anything, Drac?" he asked, turning to look at the dragon for confirmation.

"That's pretty much it, Angelo," Draconicon said, patting the raccoon's member the way another might pat a dog's head for good behavior. "Good job, even if you skipped the part about the release fund."

Damo blinked as that term was mentioned again. Each time it was mentioned, he felt a little more worried about it, and felt more and more of a need to hear just what it was. "Pardon me, but-"

Draconicon held up his hand. "Don't ask questions, Fish. If we want you to know something, we'll tell you. If we don't tell you, you can try asking other inmates, but you'll need to do them a favor first," the dragon said, a warning glare enough to make the bear shut up. The dragon laughed at him, anyway. "But I suppose it would do you no harm to know what the release fund is."

"The release fund is something that is peculiar to this little institution," Draconicon said, rubbing the raccoon's member again as he spoke. Now and then, he would pull his fingers back from the mammal's leaky prick and lick them clean, smiling to himself at the taste. "The previous Warden put it into existence when some of the inmates were able to get out earlier than they should have, due to some parole rule that most of the other prisons have. The full effect of the pleasure/pain rehabilitation hadn't taken effect on them, so they weren't quite ready for society yet. That's the excuse they gave, anyway."

"To the point. The release fund is how much money you have to earn for this institution before you are released into the real world again," Draconicon said, patting Angelo's balls. "For some, the amount is higher, for some lower. Your sentence was two years, right?" Damo nodded. "That's how long it will take you to get out of here when you cum twenty times a day, with a very large load each time. More if you don't cum that much in a day, or have smaller loads."

Damo's eyes opened wide at that amount. Twenty orgasms?! He was lucky to get six out of a day, and that was pushing it. After that, it started feeling almost painful to shoot. If this was the way that the inmates were punished here, he wasn't sure that another prison wouldn't have been more merciful, and judging by the way the dragon was grinning at him, Draconicon knew just what he was thinking.

He slumped down on the bed, looking down at his leaking prick. His cock was going to get a lot of abuse here, and so were his balls, unless he could think of some way to get out of here. Without help, though, there wasn't a chance in hell that he would get out of here, and if they were so perverted as to make cum milking into the punishment for criminals here, he didn't want to think about what the punishment for being caught escaping would be. The only chance for help, sadly, might be with the two in front of him, and with how content the dragon and raccoon seemed to be, chances for getting out of here looked worse than ever.

Just as he opened his mouth to make the request anyway, the sounds of prisoners rushing around outside distracted him. Judging by the rushing sound, all of the males outside were running somewhere. "What the heck..." Damo muttered, standing up and walking to the door. He opened it a crack to peek outside.

Each prisoner, from the biggest stallion to the smallest mouse, was running from the dormitory space towards the other structure on the opposite side of the building. They didn't even need to be herded by the guards, who stood on catwalks above the massive interior of this building. The males just ran right to the building, no prompting needed, and they even did it in an orderly fashion. "What the heck does this prison do to your mind?" he muttered to himself.

"It's milking time," Angelo said as Damo turned around again, shutting the door. "They grab most of us each day for milking, and by now, it's the only way for them to have something to do. Even if it hurts, they still want to get to it quickly, so they aren't so bored. Draconicon and I get a private time together during our milking, since we're pretty much the top producers. Right, my big dicked master?" the raccoon said, turning and licking the dragon's neck.

Draconicon chuckled at the comment, but nodded. "Speaking of, you might want to hustle out there to the milking building yourself. If the guards think you're trying to hold back and hide, or something like that, they will be making it a lot harder for you. Instead of just milking you, they'll just stick tubes down into your balls and suck your cum out that way."

The bear almost shivered out of his fur at the thought of someone actually sticking tubes into his balls like that. It was almost arousing, in some ways, but he wasn't about to give them an excuse for that. "The milking building...that's the big one just past the dorms, right? I should head there now?" he asked, wanting confirmation of the fact. As soon as he got a nod from the dragon, he rushed out of the little bedroom dorm as fast as he could, jogging in the footprints of the other males.

His shaft, still stupidly erect, bounced against his belly, and his belly bounced and rippled in return. He panted softly as he jogged the hundred yards or so between the dorms and the second building, staring at it the whole time. What could be in there that could cause this much pain and pleasure to people to make them so cooperative? What fresh hell awaited him in there?

Two guards stood at the door of the milking building, and one of them was the doberman from earlier. Guard Ekz'ahhar laughed softly, and opened the door for him. "Get inside, Fish. I promise, you'll never forget this little experience for as long as you live," the doberman promised.

Damo was afraid of that.

As soon as he stepped through the door into the milking building, he felt his jaw drop at all the things he could see. He knew he looked like an idiot, but he couldn't change the way his face looked.

Everything within this building was covered in chrome, lending everything a futuristic, silvery look. The floor, the walls, and the machines that were lined against the wall of the first floor were all covered in it. Surprisingly, there were no footprints, no marks from fingers, or anything along those lines, so the chrome had to be treated with something to ensure that it wouldn't be marred by such things.

Along the wall were about sixty machines, each one built to contain any size fur sitting down on it. Several tubes hung from adjustable arms on the machine, with a pair of containers attached to each one, with marks along the side. Measurement marks, from the looks of them. Damo shivered as he saw the straps that were on each chair as well, designed to hold down the furs and make sure that they didn't get away. That much he could guess, just by the looks of them, and that was before he saw the chairs in action.

About forty of the machines were in use, holding mice, foxes, stallions; in fact, most of the prisoners that he had seen outside of the dorm area were in there. Not all, not by any means, but most, and they were grinning even wider than before.

He just had time to look upwards, seeing a few pod-like things on the second floor before one of the officials-nurses, by the looks of them-grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along. A badger, and an old one, the nurse pulled him to one of the empty machines. "So, you're the new Fish," the badger said as he pushed him into the seat part of the machine. He didn't even look at him as he continued. "I was beginning to wonder if you had the stupidity to be absent on your first day here. I assure you, most of us do not look kindly on stunts like that. If you arrive here on time, me and the rest of the nurses will be quite a bit more inclined to be polite and professional with the milking. Please don't make us wait in the future."

Damo barely had time to blink. The badger's arms were quick, wrapping straps and restraints around his chest, neck, waist, wrists, ankles, shoulders, thighs; everywhere that might have given him even a little bit of freedom of movement was restrained quickly and thoroughly. Within no more than ten seconds, he felt himself as restrained as Houdini had ever been. Just about the only things he could move were his eyes, and he was a little worried about looking around with them, considering the way the badger had restrained every other part of his body. If his eyes moved too much, he half suspected the badger would try to find a way to hold them still as well.

The badger walked out of Damo's view, standing at the right side of the machine that he was sitting in. From the clacking sounds, the badger was working on a computer or something, probably the controlling mechanism for this particular machine. Experimentally, Damo pulled at the restraints holding down his left arm, just to see if there was any freedom of movement at all. There wasn't so much as an inch of pull to it, no matter how hard he tugged at it.

"Hey, please don't mess with the straps, Fish," the badger said, stepping away from the computer. "You can't get free, but if you tug too much, you could strain something, and since I'm the medic attached to this station, that means I would have to take care of it. I would appreciate it if you didn't make my job any more difficult than it already is, with the prisoners that come out of these sessions with heart attacks and who knows what else bothering them."

Damo was starting to feel as though his eyes would pop out of his head, or at the very least, would never settle down from their widened state. Heart attacks? These things not only milked you to twenty orgasms a day, but caused heart attacks as well? What the hell were these machines, Hell given chrome sheathing?

He didn't even get a chance to ask any questions about what would be happening here. The badger had picked up a clipboard while he'd been stunned like a deer in headlights and read off the medical history listed there, which he confirmed with a yes or a no. Any time that Damo tried to get in a question after answering one of the badger's, he was steamrolled with another question. Was he diabetic? No. Was there any history of heart illnesses in his family? No, not that he knew of. Were there any STD's in his system to his knowledge? No, not unless someone had raped him and then made him forget it in the last twelve hours.

Almost five minutes of questioning later, the badger finally put the clipboard away. "Well, at least the officers at the County lock-up were accurate in their reports. Inaccuracy is very annoying, wouldn't you agree?"

Damo blinked at the sudden change in topic. "Um, sir?" he asked. The badger looked up at him, finally. Annoyed, but finally. "Before you turn this thing on, could I at least know what your name is?" So I know what to scream into the Devil's ear when I die, he thought to himself.

For the first time, the badger grinned. "The name's Thimas, Fish. So long as you're working at this station, you'll be assigned to my care. So, guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other for a while," Thimas said with a pat to the bear's head. Without waiting for a response from the bear, Thimas pulled down a tube from an arm hanging over the seat itself.

It was a thin enough tube, for the most part, hardly intimidating, save for the part that was hanging off of the end. The clear plastic was a little longer than the length of his member, and just barely wider than his cock. At the point where it connected to the tube, the plastic sprouted a needle-like protrusion nearly three inches long, and about a centimeter wide. Was that thing-

Thimas held it in front of his eyes. "Since this is your first time, I'm taking the time to explain what is happening to you. This plastic part will be slid over your member, with the sounding needle going into your urethra to add more stimulation. The plastic part itself will get a vacuum seal over your penis, and continue to suck harder than anything you've likely encountered. Each time that you have an orgasm, the machine will use the sounding needle to inject enough aphrodisiacs into your system to keep you from going soft. Don't worry about any of those diseases like priapism and the like here," the badger said as Damo felt his eyes about to pop out of his head. "We keep that from happening by using our own, special sorts of aphrodisiacs. Keeps you hard as a rock all day, but no unpleasant side effects later."

"Any questions?" Thimas asked.

Damo considered carefully. There were many questions still buzzing around in his skull, but none of them were ones that the badger was likely to know the answer to, and as a lot of them were based around a need to get out of this, Thimas wasn't like to answer them even if he did know the answer. Even the questions about the machine he was strapped into weren't ones that he could ask; not because Thimas wouldn't answer them, but because he knew that he wasn't going to like the answers at all.

He shook his head. "Good," Thimas said. "Then we're good to go." He dunked the plastic end of the tube, as well as the needle, into a nearby tube of lube. Lifting it back out as it dripped the oily stuff, the badger quickly stuffed Damo's cock into the tube. He ground his teeth at the sensation of the wide needle pushing its way into his urethra, but other than that, Damo didn't make a peep.

"And we're off!" Thimas said with a chuckle, pushing a button on the machine and stepping back. The badger sat down on a nearby chair, ready to observe, Damo guessed.

Not that he had much time to think about that at all. Almost as soon as the button had been pressed, he felt his member being pulled at. The sucking vacuum that the tube produced had him harder than he'd ever been in his life, instantly. He moaned, grunted, and panted for breath at the instant sensations of pleasure that accompanied the mechanical blowjob, his pre-cum drizzling out through the needle in his urethra and into his member already.

Damo closed his eyes, trying to think, to put other thoughts in his head rather than just let the pleasure absorb him. He had to think, he had to find a way to escape here, he had to-

Oh, but it felt so good! Even the pain of the needle jammed that far into his urethra, spreading it out wide, had already faded away in the wake of the suction. It felt less like the vacuum that it was and more like an experienced mouth around his member, pulling him along, sucking so eagerly it was as if the giver wanted to suck his balls out through his cock. Damo couldn't quite hold back a chuckle at the thought of that, as it didn't seem to be all that inaccurate compared to his situation.

Just as he was starting to get used to the suction, to treat it as a regular blowjob so that he wasn't overwhelmed by the pleasure, it did something new. The sounding needle inside of his member started vibrating. Hard.

Both pleasure and pain rocketed through him, the pleasure dwarfing the pain, but unfortunately not to the degree that made it unfelt. Those vibrations pressed against some of his most sensitive nerve endings, and it burned, burned in the same way as a slap across a sunburn did, only five times stronger. Yet, if the pain was that strong, the pleasure was even stronger. The same sensitivity of the nerves that conducted so much pain also conducted the pleasure, beloved pleasure. With stimulation to the inside and outside of his cock, there was no way he could have held back if he wanted to.

With a pathetic, groaning roar, the bear let loose his first orgasm into the milking tubes of the machine. Each shot slid up the tube before his eyes, moving out of sight and disappearing into one of the containers at his side. He saw the container's contents go up just a little out of the corner of his eye. Looking up at the required level, he whimpered softly.

He had just cum the hardest that he had cum in his life, and his seed had added less than a centimeter of volume to the container. Worse still, the mark on the container, where he assumed that he would have to reach for the end of the day, was about twenty centimeters further up on the side of the container.

The buzzing and suction stopped suddenly as Thimas stood up, walking past him and checking the container as well. "Well, seems like you shoot a little less than we were hoping for," the badger said with a shake of his head. "I'm afraid, at this amount of semen per orgasm, you might need to climax about twenty five to thirty times a day to meet your two year quota."

Damo bit his tongue to keep back the tears of desperation that threatened to spill from his eyes. Twenty climaxes would have been hard enough. It was nearly three times what he already did to his body anyway, and he was sure that it would make it hard to do anything else with his cock outside of these labs. But twenty five climaxes?! These people must be planning to drive him into insanity, to do that to him.

Thimas looked up at him for a moment before reaching out a hand. The badger squeezed his shoulder, and then patted his cheek. "Don't worry. It's not as bad as it seems, and in a few days, it will seem like you've been doing this all of your life, Fish." The badger shook his head. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not, but you'll not mind it in a few days, and in a week, you may just be begging for this."

He had no doubt that he would be begging for this treatment, and that was partly what was scaring him. He didn't want to be a slave to pleasure the way that all the other prisoners were. He didn't even want to be here, no matter how good this felt, because he knew that eventually it would be all that he cared about.

Again, the badger didn't give him a chance to respond to that. Turning away from the bear, Thimas was pushing a few more buttons on the control panels for the machine. "Well, you've tried the suction. Let's combine that with the anal stimulator," the medical badger muttered.

The only words in there that Damo cared about were 'anal stimulator'. He jerked a little more upright, as much as he could in the straps that were holding him, and stared at the badger since he couldn't stare at the machine. This thing had more than just the suction?! What kind of people had made this thing anyway, the same kind of people that made sex machines for the bondage nuts?

Now that he thought about it, that was probably the truth.

The suction started pulling at his cock again, yanking it back to hardness after it had barely gone flaccid, though it hadn't been able to return to his sheath again due to the sounding needle inside of his urethra. However, either it was a little bit weaker this time around, or he had grown accustomed to it enough to keep it from driving him insane with the pleasure it offered this time. He sighed softly, even as he panted from excitement. He could keep his mind clear this time, at least. He would be able to deal with the pleasure this time.

Then he felt the flat tip of a dildo pushing against his asshole.

He jerked upwards against that feeling, wishing that he could look down and behind him to at least see what the dildo looked like that was pushing up against him. He groaned softly as it pushed harder and harder against his tight pucker, feeling just how wide it was. It had to be a horse dildo, with how wide it was, and how flat it was at the tip. No other species felt quite the same as this.

Distracted by a whirring buzz, Damo's eyes jerked upwards to see a screen lowering itself down in front of his eyes. It flickered for a second before showing a clear image of his backside, with a horse shaped dildo pressed right up against his backside. He could even see his tailhole flexing in an effort to keep the huge thing out of him.

The machine seemed to sense his resistance, and it pushed harder against his hole. Due to the fact that he couldn't move so much as a millimeter in any direction anymore, the increased pressure was enough to break through whatever resistance he could put up.

It burned like someone had lit him on fire down there. Damo was sure that his hole had torn around that huge intruder up his backside, no matter what he might see on the screen in front of him. The dildo continued pushing its way inside of him, uncaring about any pain it might cause him, and even though it pressed almost continuously against his prostate, the pleasure was dwarfed by the pain.

Not that the pain allowed him to go soft and get out this, oh no, not in the least. The suction from the tube, even though it couldn't push away the pain in his ass, sucked him hard and kept him that way. The vacuum was something that easily overpowered his body's response to the pain. Worst of all, to Damo's mind, his pre still kept flowing out of his cock and through the tube. It wasn't natural. They had to be sucking and beating it out of him by this point, because he couldn't possibly be enjoying this.

He panted softly, clenching his teeth as the dildo inside of his hole pushed in further. He couldn't tell by touch how far into him it had gone, but he could by looking at the video screen in front of him. For whatever reason, the dildo was marked with measure marks of its length, and the sixth inch mark had just slid inside of him. He shivered as the fake cock just kept pressing further into him. There seemed like there was no end to it, and despite the pain, it kept pushing his prostate, kept shoving more and more pre out of him into the tube to collect. The suction tube was sucking so hard now that it hurt, and he worried that it might suck his cock right out of his sheath if it kept up, or worse, was turned up.

Somehow, the giant horse dildo pushed into him almost thirteen inches before it stopped. It almost felt like it was in his stomach, or at least deep into his intestines. He sucked in deep breaths, grunting in pain. "Take it out! Please, please take it out!" he begged, pleading with his voice and his eyes.

Thimas only shook his head at him. "Did you think it would be all pleasure? If you did, you're certainly not so intelligent as I might wish to see, but if you didn't think there would be some punishment with this, you show less intelligence than I thought possible," the badger said with a shake of his head. "That dildo is the smallest of things that you'll be taking in during your sentence. Eventually, we'll be able to fit an elephant's leg up your tailhole, and we will be using one at some point. Not sure when, but at some point," the badger added, never stirring from his point of observation.

Damo whimpered softly. He could barely take this horse cock inside of him right, and it was holding still. If it started moving-

"ARGH!" he grunted, the dildo doing just that. It jerked back, the flared head of the fake cock scraping against his insides lightly as it pulled further and further back. The head reached his tailhole, and for a moment, he thought they were going to be pulling it out, using something else. The flare around the head of the dildo, however, wouldn't allow it to exit. Each pull only made it feel like hooks were shoved into his pucker and yanked on from the outside. If that kept up, he was sure that he might have the same kind of tailhole as a stallion, a donut instead of a star.

He yelped loudly as the dildo suddenly reversed direction, shoving itself back into him, back to the thirteen inch mark. It slammed hard against his prostate on the way in, and he jumped from the pleasure that it gave him, even through the pain. The pleasure was nearly five times stronger when it thrusted into him that hard, a larger than normal burst of pre shooting from his member as he was filled. He shivered in his bonds, feeling the dildo pull back again. He almost whimpered in anticipation of another thrust like that.

The machine didn't disappoint him. It slammed into him with the force of a real stallion, he was sure. This time, the pleasure was even stronger, and it was only the strength and tightness of the straps around him that kept him from thrusting back against it. Oh, God! That was so good!

He didn't care that the badger was laughing at him now. He didn't care about the prison. He just wanted the pleasure that the machine could give him. He could think about escape later. It wasn't anything important, compared to the way this machine made him feel. He tried to give some signal to Thimas to turn up the machine, to give him more.

Whether the signal was seen or not, the machine was turned up. The dildo thrusted into him hard, fast, filling and emptying him each time. Each thrust was powerful enough to have knocked him to his knees from pure pleasure if he hadn't been strapped in. Within only a few thrusts, he felt his second orgasm rush through him with a vengeance.

He forced his eyes to stay open, watching the flow of the cum up the tube and into the container at the side of the machine. This time, it went up just a little more than the last time. Not nearly as much as he hoped for, but at least it was more than before.

Thimas walked around him, and looked at the container himself. Damo heard an approving grunt from the older male before Thimas walked around into view again. "Seems that you can produce a little more than I thought. Maybe this won't be quite so hard for you after all, though I wouldn't put money on it. Let's move past this kid stuff now, hmm? You still another twenty orgasms, I think..."

In the back of his mind, Damo screamed from the thought of more. If this was kiddie stuff, he wasn't sure that his body could take more than that.

But he felt himself grin. Part of him, at least, was wanting as much as the Milking Farm could throw at him.

And he got it.

~~~

He had entered the milking building near noon. It wasn't until after 11:00 PM that he was released from the machine. Everyone else in the milking machines had long since been released to their homes, and they had been able to walk out under their own power.

Damo, on the other hand, had to be carried back to his dorm. Humiliatingly, it was his cellmates that carried him back to the dorm. They'd come in for their milking almost four hours after he had, yet they had finished up their production in less than an hour. Not fair, not fair!

When he was laid against the bed in the dorm, face down, Damo yelped softly in pain. His tailhole, his cock, his balls; everything that was associated with sex on his body hurt so badly. It felt like someone had grabbed everything on him and put it through a medieval torture session. Just the thought of another day was enough to make him shiver with terror, yet somehow, it made his cock grow again, after a total of fifteen forced orgasms.

He wanted to ask Draconicon and Angelo questions about this place. He needed to ask them questions, if he was going to have any chance of getting out of here. But he was so tired, so exhausted. Damo sighed as he leaned into the bed. He'd ask them in the morning. IN the morning, there would be enough time.

He heard the giggles from the dragon and raccoon behind him, and it made him shiver with fear as he drifted off to sleep.