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Milking Prison Restitution

Chapter 4

for player567

by Draconicon

A month had passed since Sandra had been taken to the Milking Farm, and in that time, she had been milked no less than twenty-eight times. Throughout those twenty-seven milking sessions after the first, once daily, the number of orgasms that she had been allowed was a grand total of 0. She had been teased, nudged, pushed to the very edge to the point where she was almost pissing pre-cum, but not once had she been allowed to go over that edge. The precious pre-cum that they wanted was all that mattered, and it was better, so far as the scientists were concerned, for the feline prisoner to be left to have her balls backed up, teased, and bulging with seed rather than giving her the simple allowance of emptying them once in a while.

And in the last three days, it had gotten worse. Three days had passed since the last milking session she'd gone through, and Sandra was all but losing her mind. Her balls felt larger, heavier than ever, and she had to lie down with her legs spread or, if she was on her side, with her balls and cock pushed forward more than usual so that they could hang down rather than risk getting pinched between her legs. They were nearly the size of her fist, each, and they had demanded steadily more attention each time that she had been passed over for a milking.

"Nnngh..."

Sandra groaned as she rolled over on her cot, hearing her sac hit the rubber sheet under her with how heavy it had become. She groaned into the bed, grumbling under her breath.

"Stupid officials. Stupid meeting. Stupid, stupid, stupid..."

Eliza - the stupid, 'do-gooder' lioness guard that had rubbed her wrong on day one - had been the one to give her the news. In preparation for her monthly meeting and evaluation, she had to go three days without getting milked to make sure that she had some self-control. The lioness had seemed shy, but Sandra knew the sound of smug hunger, smug lust when she heard it. That tone had been just under the information, and she just knew that the lioness was waiting for her to fuck it up so that she could have the chance to punish her again.

Three days. It seemed so stupidly easy on the surface of it, but then you had to go through it. The air was laced with aphrodisiacs. Every step brushed the soles of her feet with another coat of the slime and the wetness that was slowly soaked in and added to the pool of need. Every bit of food that they were given was saturated with those drugs. There was no getting away from the horny, no matter how hard you tried, and she didn't know how to take it.

In short order, her balls had swollen, her thoughts had fucked off and taken a vacation to her dick, and she wanted nothing more than to pick the lock on her cage and spend the entire week jerking off. There were times, when she wasn't paying attention, when she actually grabbed hold of the plastic cage and tried to do just that, rubbing herself, pulling it and dragging it up and down her cock, seeing if she could get any kind of stimulation to get herself off. It didn't work, of course, but it was something that she still tried.

The only thing that she had some control on was the choice to never leave the tent. On some level, Sandra knew that if she left it, she would start doing really stupid things that would be brought up during the meeting. She might, as Vicky had suggested, try seducing one of the milkers to get some relief from them. She might chase down one of the better-looking inmates and see if she could get some anal stimulation to ease the pain. She might have done something so stupid as to break into the milking area and see if she could milk herself.

She knew that it was possible. She'd seen a cougar try it, only to get punished severely for breaking the rules. She wasn't going to risk that for herself.

But there were days when she genuinely wished that she had the guts to give it a try. Staying here, feeling her balls churn heavier and heavier, getting fuller and fuller, was a punishment all its own. Her eyes were rolled back in their sockets, her breathing shallow as she fought the urge to hump against her bed.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

"You sound like a girl in heat," Vicky said, her vixen 'tent mate' returning from a milking by the smell of it. She sat down at the side of the cat's bed. "You okay?"

"Nnngh...no."

"You know, I could -"

"I'm following...the rules...even if they want to tempt me to break them," Sandra muttered into the bed.

"They expect you to break them. I mean, they do this just to push you to that breaking point. Just give them what they want."

"No chance. I don't belong here...I'm not making it easier for them to keep me here."

Even if she didn't entirely trust herself with the upcoming meeting, it was better to go in without black marks on the record rather than relieve herself and just hope she was going to be good enough. Even if the temptation to let Vicky finger her until she oozed out enough pre-cum to take the weight out from between her legs was tempting as hell.

Considering that she didn't even like anything up her ass before she came here, that was saying something, too. She groaned into the bed again, thumping her head against the rubber edge.

"This is bullshit."

"Heh, come on. You're the one that wanted to get out."

"This isn't for that...this is just a meeting..."

"Yeah, but I bet that's part of how they decide who's ready to get out and who's not."

"Great. I'm going to a parole meeting while hopped up on my own chemicals."

"...When you put it that way..."

Sandra grumbled, all but biting the latex as she suppressed the urge to hump and grind and thrust away into the bed. Fuck, but she was horny as all get-out, and she had no idea how to handle it except to stay as still as possible and hope that she didn't actually grind against something when she breathed in. The sheer feeling of pleasure that came from all parts of her oversensitive body didn't make things any easier for her, and particularly when her breasts ground against the bed or when her cock slid against the slick rubber or -

"Mmmph..."

Or when her oversized balls dragged through the slime pool that she was creating at all times at this point. She was so pent-up that it took everything she had not to hump through that, to try and get off from rubbing her balls on things. Her balls! She wasn't supposed to even be interested in them, but with her cock locked up and no way to get her ass teased properly, that was all she had left.

She whimpered, biting her lips as she almost started grinding again, forcing herself to go as still as possible, flattening herself to the bed until movement almost hurt. Her muscles were tensed from head to toe, and then, and only then, did the excitement start to fade. She held that position to the count of thirty, and then slowly allowed herself to relax.

When she opened her eyes, Vicky was staring at her. The vixen shook her head.

"Damn. You got it bad."

"You think?" Sandra muttered.

"Uh..."

"Rhetorical question."

Breathing slowly, she offered her hand to the other woman. Vicky took it, and Sandra used that leverage to slowly lift herself to a seated position. Her shaft throbbed and ached in its cage, and she bit her lips as she sat up fully, her balls falling over the edge of the bed and hanging down with some serious heft, weight, and tightness. They had swollen to the point that the fur on them looked thinned out, and that was all down to the fact that they had swollen and enlarged as much as they had. There was no less fur, just that much more ball.

She resisted the urge to reach down and stroke them, knowing she wouldn't be able to stop. Vicky sat by her and took her hand, and she desperately took the kitsune's hand in her own.

"Is this...is this going to work out?" she asked.

"...I don't know."

"Have you had these meetings?"

"Well, not yet."

"But you -"

"I didn't get here that much sooner than you, and I think my bad behavior canceled mine."

"...Oh."

"But you'll be okay. You're better at this than me."

"...I don't know."

"You'll be fine." Vicky smiled, giving her hand another squeeze. "Besides, even if you aren't, what's the worst that they'll do? Throw you back in here and give you the milking you need?"

She smiled almost despite herself, shaking her head as she thought about how good it would feel to get that milking. Even if she was tied down with her ass in the air and nothing to stop her from pre-cumming her brains out, she knew that she'd love it in the moment.

But she would like it even more to be set free.

They won't set me free. Not this soon.

But it was a fantasy worth having, and that was something that she could hold onto. Maybe it would be enough to keep her sane while she had the meeting. Maybe it would be enough motivation for her to keep her self-control while they were tormenting her and pushing her buttons, seeing if she could actually keep control or if she was still a bad person.

Not that she was. She never had been. But they saw her as one, and that was all that mattered.

A new set of footsteps caught her ears, and she looked up to see a familiar, tawny leg pushing past the edge of the tent. She growled almost before she could stop herself, and a familiar voice chuckled.

"Now, now. Do you want to growl at the guards? I'm just here to help you."

Eliza. The bitch had grown up in the last month, and then some. She had stopped being quite so shy, but was far more perverted - and more openly so - than most of the guards. Despite the fact that she was found fist-deep in convicts day in and day out, she still seemed to find some way to insist to herself that she was helping them, that she was part of a treatment that was to make them better parts of society. Sandra didn't know how the lioness managed to lie to herself like that, but it was impressive.

Oh, she still had that cock cage on under that blue-black guard uniform, something that most of the others didn't have to wear, but that didn't matter. The annoying feline was just as horny as the rest of them, and far less modest about it.

Sandra met the lioness's smiling face with as much of a glare as she dared to have. She narrowed her eyes at the other woman.

"What do you want?"

"It's time for the meeting. I'm here to escort you."

"You mean molest me."

"Only if you step out of line. Now, come on. You want to show them how good you are, right?"

There was just that slight bit of condescension there that made her want to leap on the lioness and start a fight, and just enough self-control left to keep her from doing it. She was better than that. She would be so much better than that, so long as she kept her head on her shoulders. She would not be baited. She would not.

Slowly, Sandra pushed herself to her feet, holding out her hand. The lioness took her by the balls, instead. Eliza blushed, but was no less fulsome in her touching, groping, teasing them, rolling them around and leaving Sandra hissing in need and whimpering under her breath from the treatment.

"You've gotten much bigger."

"Mmmph...your fault."

"And very rounded and heavy."

"I'm not...going...to break the rules."

"And drippy."

She wasn't listening. Sandra gritted her teeth, refusing to dignify any more comments without some acknowledgement of herself as a person. The lioness kept rubbing, fondling, even pulling her balls, but never addressed her directly. The constant flow of pre-cum from the tip of the cage was testament to how much backed-up product was in there, and how much they were missing out on.

And how much she had done her best to not touch herself. She hoped it would be enough.

They walked out of the tent line and back to the elevator. Sandra had to take each step carefully, just for the sake of her balls as they tried to get squished between her thighs with every step. She bit her lips, hissing when they came a little too close, and blushed as she felt the eyes of the rest of the prison population on her. Her body was eye-catching to begin with, considering her massive G-cup breasts, but with her cock caged and her balls swelling to match the rest of her, there was no denying that she was little less than a fertility goddess at this point. Her ass swayed more than usual, and her balls felt like metronomes between her thighs, swinging back and forth almost under their own weight more than anything else.

She'd imagined that she would have felt some sort of relief stepping into the elevator, considering that they would be away from the aphrodisiacs, but they were still burning through her system. The metal floor meant nothing as they went up to the surface levels, and she had to bite off whimpers to avoid touching herself.

Eliza leaned over, whispering in her ear, the handsy lioness groping her ass.

"It's for your own good, you know. I know that this is embarrassing. It's embarrassing for me, too -"

"Is it?"

"...What do you mean?"

"Hmmph. Skin-tight clothes? Cock-cage? Try being naked and made to hold back day in and day out. Try being rape-meat for you guards. Try just trying to keep track of who you are in here, and then tell me that it's just 'embarrassing.'"

"I - you know that this is for your own good. It's helping you be better. I'm helping you be better."

"No, you're just -"

"We're helping you."

There was a tone in the other woman's voice that brooked no argument, and she knew that it was meant to be intimidating. Yet, there was just enough of a squeak to it to tell her that her questions, her comments, everything that she was saying was putting the other woman on the defensive. Sandra slowly turned to face the lioness, a slow smile creeping over her muzzle.

"You don't believe yourself, do you?"

"I-I know I'm doing the right thing."

"...No, you don't. You like doing it, but you don't know if it's right. You just like it. You little -"

Ding. The elevator hit the top floor, and before she could continue, she was dragged right off her feet. Sandra followed with a yelp and a gasp as she was forced to keep putting her attention back on her balls to avoid squishing them, and her breasts heaved as she was made to walk faster, faster, faster to keep up with the nearly-naked guard that had no interest in hearing what she had to say.

Dragged past processing and then down a secondary hall, Sandra didn't even have a chance to see which way they were going before they were out of the passages and in a new room. She groaned as she was pushed into a steel seat, one that had handcuffs waiting on the arms, and which were applied to the shackles around her wrists. Her ankles received a similar treatment, keeping her legs wide apart.

The mare that had been part of processing her a month ago sat behind a table, and Eliza joined her, the lioness crossing her hands in imitation of the mare on the table. The two guards shared a look, one that promised that the mare was a little more aware of what was going on than she should be, before the mare looked back at the prisoner.

"Sandra. I heard that you had some complaints."

"...No, ma'am," the feline said, swallowing all the vitriol that wanted to come bursting forth.

"Is that true?"

"...I doubt that you want to change it, so what's the point in bringing it up?"

"Why, it helps you focus on what you want to get out of your prison experience, of course. If you have complaints about unprofessional behavior -"

"You -"

"Yes, Sandra?" Mirriam asked, the mare smiling knowingly.

Sandra gritted her teeth and swallowed the shout that wanted to come rushing past her lips. God, the things that she wanted to say and the ways that she wanted to rip them down from their high horse. The unmitigated gall that they had to put her through this and then tell her that she could complain if she wanted.

Complain? And get what? The chance to get thrown back into her tent without any chance of anything improving? Yeah, right. The system had abandoned her the moment that her lawyer signed her up for this without consulting her or telling her. She was on her own, and nothing, nobody, and no-one cared about what happened to her in this hell-hole of a prison.

"Any complaints?" Mirriam asked.

"...No, ma'am."

"Good, good. Now, you've been in total chastity for the last three days. How do you feel?"

"...I feel...fine," she said, wishing that she could keep the tone of utter rage out of her voice a little more effectively. "I've enjoyed the break."

"Is that so? And is that why you're making such a mess of the chair?"

"...I'm sorry," she said through clenched teeth.

"That remains to be seen."

Oh, this was going horribly. It was so hard to hold back anyway, and the constant frustration from all the missed milking sessions was driving what little filter she had right out of her head. Sandra panted, feeling the need to pull her legs together, but unable to do so, the cuffs and shackles keeping her legs spread.

"Now, let's see. It seems that you do little more than complain to your officers, so that means that you clearly feel that something is wrong," Mirriam said.

"I...I don't..."

"I think you do."

"I don't."

"Do you not? Are you sure? I think that I have heard you say, myself, that you don't deserve to be here."

"..."

"Or have you changed your mind?"

It was a trick question. It had to be. They were forcing her to say whether she deserved to be here or whether she was an uncooperative prisoner that needed further education. She shivered as they continued to stare at her, her cock throbbing up, bouncing down, and throbbing up again, pulling the cage along with it, dragging her dripping, barely-able-to-elongate-at-all cock over her balls.

"I...I..."

"Yes, Sandra?" the mare asked, leaning over her hands. "Are you a good girl, or are you a bad girl?"

"..."

"Answer the question."

"...I'm...I'm..."

What was the right answer? Good? Bad? God, it was hard to think, particularly when they were staring at her like this. Even during milking sessions, she didn't remember being quite this exposed. It was so, so fucking hard to think when she imagined them staring at her ass like this, or bending her over and forcing her to ooze pre-cum for them again. The idea of being stared at this intently made her want to...want to...

Think...think...

But it was so hard to do that. Her brains were in her balls, swelling, churning, rolling away, and she whimpered as she tried to pull herself out of the sexual thoughts and failed. Mirriam smiled still.

"Good girl, or bad girl?"

"I'm...I'm..."

She was naughty.

She was horny.

She was bad.

"I'm a...bad girl."

"That's what I thought. And bad girls need to be punished, don't they?"

"...Yes," Sandra whispered, closing her eyes.

Damn, damn, damn. She lost control and said the wrong thing. Or the right thing? Or the -

Did it matter when nothing made sense, when the world was topsy-turvy and she didn't know what was right and what was wrong?

"Eliza. Take her down for emergency milking. Ruined orgasms, I think," the mare said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And Eliza?"

"Yes?"

"Do it well, and we'll consider getting your cock cage removed."

"I - you - thank you, ma'am."

Sandra was still in a state of shock as she was pulled out of the steel chair, barely paying attention as she was marched back to the elevator. She could have had a chance to say something, anything, but instead, she'd let herself get played. Now, she was a self-admitted 'bad girl', and she just knew that would come up in any number of meetings later. It would be on her record, and who knew how hard that was going to make it for her to get out of this prison anytime soon.

They reached the elevator, and Eliza's hand was back on her ass. The lioness's eyes were glowing, looking like someone that was almost feverish with excitement. She shivered at the thought of what that might mean for her, but considering the sheer hunger that Eliza had had for everything else so far, she didn't think that it would matter. One way or another, she was going to get the treatment that she was due.

"You deserve this. You said it yourself. You deserve this."

"Because you tricked me," Sandra said.

"You deserve it. And it's going to feel so good to show you what you need, where you belong."

They went to a different milking lab, one at the very bottom of the facility. Sub-Level 5 was in complete darkness, and there was nothing that they could see in any direction. Eliza led her along, and Sandra wasn't sure if she was feeling plants or tentacles of some sort around her feet. Either way, it wasn't something that was completely natural, and she tried not to think about it more than she had to. It was not something that she needed right then and there.

A door closed and some lights turned on. She blinked, looking around to find that there was a very different sort of machine than the one she was used to. This one looked like one of those things that women were stuffed into during their visits to the gynecologist, except that there were three milking tubes that hung down from the ceiling, one paired and one that stood on its own. She was pulled to it and shoved in, tied down immediately afterward with her legs spread wide and her arms pulled up and over her head. Padded pieces of machinery pushed against the small of her back, making her arch it a bit and push her breasts forward, all while Eliza moved rapidly around her.

"Nnngh...what...what is this thing?" she asked.

"A different kind of milker. One that will show you what happens to bad girls."

"Ruined...ruined orgasms, Mirriam said."

"That's right. Ruined orgasms. Bad girls don't deserve proper releases. They deserve ruined orgasms, things that leave them wanting."

She whimpered, rolling her head back and bumping it against the top of the chair. So much for the relief that she'd been hoping to get.

As her legs were pulled further apart than usual and a mechanized shaft was aimed right beneath her tail, Sandra was forced to watch as Eliza pulled down the milker tubes from overhead. Her cheeks burned as she felt the rubber suction clamps sealing around her nipples, but nothing matched the feeling of her cock being unlocked and the rapidly-stiffening eight-inch length being fed into the cock milker.

She didn't know how this was going to be ruined, didn't know how it was going to be made less than satisfying. It didn't matter at that moment. What mattered was that she was going to cum, and her balls would stop churning constantly, and she'd be able to think clearly again.

No sooner had the machine turned on than it sucked right to the base of her cock, all but yanking it into the machine, and she all but screamed as it started pulsing, throbbing, vibrating around her bare cock for the first time in almost a month. Nothing had touched her bare shaft since the sensitivity milking on the first day, and this...this was so much worse. This was a hundred times worse.

Vibrations pulsed up and down her cock, and the bottom ring was sucked so tight to her shaft that it might have been a functional chastity cock-ring if it wasn't for the fact that she was as horned up as she was. Sandra did scream as the vibrations got worse, buzzing her oversensitive balls, leaving her arching her back and humping up -

"NNNNNGH!"

And then the other milking tubes were pressed to her nipples, and the dark-pink flesh rose up, pushing out of her fur and getting more visible than ever as the suction hit them. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets and her jaws fell open, her breath coming faster and faster as the machine whirred like mad. The toy between her legs pressed against her asshole, on the verge of sliding in already. She wanted it, needed it, needed something to push her over the edge.

And then, without warning, Eliza hit a button on the machine. Everything stopped, the suction ceased, and -

And it was too much. The lack of stimulation right then didn't matter; she'd been right at the edge, and it had held on just long enough, and -

Sandra hissed through clenched teeth as she was made to cum, the dribbling mess bubbling out of her cock for her to see through the transparent tube wrapped around it. It was a pathetic mess, something that she could barely believe was actually so small when she thought about three days of no orgasms, and then a sprawling month of only pre-cum edging before that. She stared at her cock, felt her balls churning still, and whimpered at the twisting, turning feeling just below her cock that was so close to blue-balls but not quite there.

"Not enough, is it?" Eliza asked, the lioness chuckling slightly. "That's what happens for bad girls. They don't get to feel satisfied. They never will until they learn their lesson."

"Nnngh..."

"Now, now. You still have to be drained so you don't hurt yourself."

"Please..."

"Annnnd go."

The machine clicked on again, and once more, Sandra was screaming in pleasure, the tight bindings barely keeping her in place as she attempted to buck and bounce, thrust and twist in the restraints. The feline's breasts bounced, barely kept back by the milking tubes attached to her nipples, and her eyes were wide and wild as the pleasure started climbing again, assaulting her oversensitive cock to the point where, if she'd been any less desperate, it would have been too much to bear. She arched her back, curled her toes, welcomed the pressure on her ass -

POP!

"Oooooooooh yes!"

She screamed at the top of her lungs as she was filled, as it slid in, as it pressed over her prostate. Her over-filled balls rose up, pressed to her crotch -

And the machine turned off again. The sensation of pleasure died, but the release came anyway, bubbling up and out of her cock and oozing down her shaft. She wanted to scream as that twisting, unfulfilling sensation descended on her again. It was like her own body was mocking her for her lack of capability there.

She had no mercy. The flow barely stopped before the machine turned on again. She screamed again, feeling almost like something was about to start bubbling out of her nipples as well as her cock. The fluid that she'd already released from her shaft slid away, going deeper into the machine, disappearing from sight as she was tormented, filled, fucked, and -

"NNNNGH!"

"Yes, yes. There's some parts from an old electric chair in this. Mirriam told me how to use it for that, too."

"FUUUUUUUUUCK!"

It was hours later when she was finally brought back to her tent, and she was weaker than a newborn kitten as she was marched across the black-rubber 'street' to the small thing. Vicky was there to take possession of her from Eliza, and the lioness walked away as if she was high on something. Perhaps she was; something had changed in the lioness, and Sandra didn't think it was anything good.

She couldn't speak, and Vicky helped her into bed. The feeling of being able to lie down without having to worry about crushing her sac was nice, but she didn't know if she preferred it to what she had gone through. The milking...that intense, horrifying, amazing milking had shifted things for her.

"Are you okay?" Vicky asked.

"...."

"Sandra?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

It was the only honest thing she could say. She was battered, bruised, and more than a little exhausted. Her body burned with the lack of completion that she'd gotten from the machine, and though her balls were drained, she wasn't sure if it was worth it. She had been a bad girl and gotten punished.

Sandra groaned, knowing that was a bad way to think about it, but it was already there, already burning into her.

She'd been a bad girl, and needed to be punished.

It's going to be a long month until we can try that again...

The End

Summary: Sandra has to attend a meeting to see how she's doing, and is partially sabotaged for it.

Tags: tF/tF, trans female/solo, cat, lioness, vixen, machine, nudity, forced exposure, bondage, e-stim, milking, forced orgasm, ruined orgasm, cum, dripping, pre-cum, prison, series,