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She was wobbling on her haunches and looked ready to keel over. How the dynamics of their little triangular alliance had shifted!

"We could wait until tomorrow..." Martin said hopefully.

"No," Gretchen said. "They'll find out if we disobey them, I'm sure of it. You heard what Jacob said. Our careers depend on doing this right. Besides, I think Alisha needs them real soon - she looks exhausted."

Even though Gretchen sounded as though she had Alisha's best interests at heart, Martin was beginning to think otherwise. She no longer seemed afraid of this place, and he sensed that she was now a lot more comfortable with this vile situation than he was. For some reason, while he had been demeaning himself with Alisha in the milking shed, there had been a noticeable change of mindset within Gretchen.

"I'll tell you what," Gretchen said, holding out her hand. "I'll do it. Why don't you go and take a shower? I can see how unsettled you are."

Martin looked up at her, hating himself for his weakness. Back in the office he was the strong and purposeful one, and his girls were always coming to him for advice and encouragement. Now he felt emotionally emasculated, although by no means physically. If anything, his libido, always strong, had been considerably amplified. But it didn't feel like a manly act as he tipped the hateful suppositories into Gretchen's palm. She squeezed his shoulder with the other hand and said, "Go on. You've had a tough day. This is something better handled between us women."

Glancing down at Alisha's abject form, Martin still had trouble identifying her as a woman any more, but grateful for the unexpected respite, he nodded distractedly and went into the bedroom. Their overnight bags were still on the dresser where they had left them, and the bed cover remained imprinted with the shape of Gretchen's slender body. Martin slumped heavily on the bed, the sweet taste of Alisha's milk still strong in his mouth. He placed a hand over his crotch and absently stroked his insistent erection through his pants.

My dear God, I actually milked Alisha Royce today! Milked her! And then I drank her maternal juices like a hungry infant! How much more intimate can you get with a person other than through actual coitus?

But yet again, he couldn't reconcile that vulgar act with the kind of sexual encounter he had always imagined having with Alisha. In his nocturnal dreams, there had been touching, kissing, and gentle, mutual caressing. Today, he had simply taken her bodily produce from her while she had been powerless to stop him!

Aware that he was still stroking his groin, Martin stood up abruptly and went into the bathroom.

*

"So how on earth did this happen to you?" Gretchen asked, straddling one of the kitchen stairs and resting her chin on her arms. Crouching on the floor in front of her, Alisha had allowed her head to hang forward, and Gretchen took a moment to study the remaining little patch of fuzz on the top of her head.

"You must have made somebody very important, really, really mad for them to do this to you, huh?"
With some effort, the exhausted black girl managed to raise her face towards Gretchen, but seemed to have some difficulty focusing her eyes. Her jaws remained cruelly jammed apart by the uncomfortable-looking gag, and a steady stream of saliva ran profusely over her lower lip.

"How silly of me," Gretchen said. "You can't speak with that ridiculous gadget in your mouth, can you?"

She straightened up and then turned the little ratchet mechanism on the side of the metal gag, forcing Alisha's mouth open a little wider.

"Angh!" Alisha's eyes suddenly regained their focus.

"Oops! Sorry!" Gretchen tittered.

Gradually she succeeded in closing the gag until she was able to free it from behind Alisha's teeth. She threw the saliva-soaked contraption into the sink, and Alisha painfully wiggled her jaws.

"Is that better?" Gretchen asked.

"W-water," Alisha croaked.

Gretchen found an enamel cup and filled it from the faucet.

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